Family of Blood
by Shakespeare's Lemonade
Summary: After dealing with Metatron and the Mark of Cain, the boys face a new problem: vampires. The Alpha is attempting to rebuild his empire, and he has his sights set on one who was once his. But Dean isn't about to go down easy, and he's got more help than even he realizes. Still, it may not be enough to save him and everyone he cares about. Rating for violence. AU of season 9 finale.
1. Prologue: Six Months Ago

Family of Blood

Shakespeare's Lemonade

Rating: M

Genre: Horror/Family/Hurt/Comfort

Summary: After dealing with Metatron and the Mark of Cain, the boys face a new problem: vampires. The Alpha is attempting to rebuild his empire, and he has his sights set on one who was once his. But Dean isn't about to go down easy or follow anyone else's plan, and he's got more help than even he realizes. Still, it may not be enough to save him and everyone he cares about.

A/N: This came about from a subplot in my other story "The One I'm fighting For" where Dean encounters the Alpha around chapters 17-20. I didn't really have time, nor did the plot allow, for me to expand on the idea, so we have this. Which is probably better anyway because I can do a lot more with it than I could have in that story.

This story takes place after season 9. I deal with the events of the season finale in the prologue with a few deviations for the sake of the plot, so this is a little bit AU.

Pairings: Benny/Lenore, Castiel/Meg

Warnings: Vampire!Dean, strong violence throughout, occasional language, implied sex.

Beta: Kex3

_Prologue: six months ago_

His first feeling, odd as it seemed, was that the whole world looked different. The world had been looking different so gradually for so long, but this was the first time he was complete aware of it. He knew what he was, what he was feeling. It was all so clear.

There was anger. A lot of it. But more than that, he was relieved. To finally know what was happening to him. To not be dead. It was a weird feeling, but at least he could make a somewhat intelligent decision now.

"Where's Sam?"

Dean wasn't surprised that those were the first words out of his mouth, even though he hadn't consciously thought them before he spoke.

"Weren't you listening?" Crowley replied. "I just explained everything."

"I was coming back to life. It's not the easiest job. I'm sorry I was a little distracted."

"Sam's in the dungeon. Summoning me. You should come too; I want to see his face."

"You think this is funny?"

"I think you're handling it rather well."

"This isn't permanent."

"Ah. Denial. Shall we, then?"

Dean moved toward the door, and Crowley rolled his eyes.

"You know you don't have to walk," he said.

"Shut up."

Dean closed the door behind him. Crowley would follow him or snap his fingers or whatever. Dean didn't care. He didn't want to spring this on Sam that way. As he headed down the stairs he could hear voices. Sam sounded urgent, and it was strange to be on this side of things. To be the one whose life was being begged for. By comparison, Crowley was unconcerned. Of course he was. He was probably thrilled about this new development. It wouldn't last. They'd fix this. Dean could get rid of the Mark. He could be human again.

At first, Sam didn't turn around when Dean entered the dungeon. He was too focused on trying to understand Crowley's vague explanation for what happened to Dean. When he did turn, Sam wore an expression Dean had forgotten he had. It had been so long since Sam looked relieved, happy even. He hugged Dean, which Dean knew was supposed to be a good thing. It was supposed to feel warm and welcoming, and maybe because it was supposed to, it did. There was something... good... about it. But it was more in Dean's head. He _knew_ it was good. He didn't _feel_ much of anything.

So, he pushed Sam away, more firmly than he would have thought he'd ever do. He looked Sam in the eye, and he still saw that optimism. There was no inkling in Sam's face of the fact that something terrible had occurred.

"What happened?" he asked. "How are you even alive?"

"Sam... I—I'm not the same." Dean thought this should have been easier. He wasn't sure where he got that idea. "I'm..."

_I'm a demon. Just say it. It's not that hard._

"What, Dean? Whatever it is, we can handle it." Sam was still looking at the bright side. "I know you said the Mark was making you into something else, but we can stop it."

"It's already done." Dean wasn't really surprised at the flat tone in his voice. "It's too late."

"But you're still alive. We can fix it."

Maybe they could. But would Sam want to? There was only one way to know. Dean closed his eyes for a moment. Longer than he needed to, but he wasn't ready for this. When he opened them again, the world looked sharper around the edges. Sam stumbled back, the shock and revulsion on his face erasing any of the previous sentiments he was feeling. The way he looked at Dean, the utter contempt didn't hurt as much as Dean thought it would because he always thought Sam felt that way anyway.

"As I was saying," Crowley interrupted. "This wasn't exactly the plan, but it's not such a bad thing. Think of all the things you'll be able to do, the places you can go—"

"Shut up," Sam said, never taking his eyes of Dean. "We can fix this. Dean, we _know_ how to fix this."

When Dean blinked, the world returned to normal, and Sam didn't look half as repulsed as he had before. "Are you serious?"

"Think about it. I almost did it before. I know how."

"But won't that put you back on track to burning up from the inside?"

"I don't think so. Cas healed the last traces of it. And it was the third trial, so it wouldn't start it up again. You have to do them in order."

"You'll end up getting yourselves killed," Crowley muttered, but no one paid him any attention.

"So you could make me normal again?" Dean was still incredulous.

"Well, it might be a bit more complicated with the Mark, but it's the same idea, isn't it?"

"What if I can't be cured? What if it just kills you?"

"I have to try. We can't leave you like this, let you turn into something you're not."

"I don't know what I am."

"Then let me bring you back. I can do this, Dean."

"This is insanity," Crowley grumbled.

"Shut up," Sam and Dean said in unison.

**~oOo~**

Sam couldn't remember exactly what the old church was like the last time he was there. Everything had started to get blurry a few doses into the cure, and by the end of it he was so drained he could barely think straight. Maybe that was why he had stopped. Maybe if he'd been in his right mind, he would have finished it and left Dean to deal with the fallout. Maybe not. It wasn't as if he would ever know now.

But he did remember the feel of it. That old, sacred feeling. That hadn't changed. And this time, Sam would finish. He would cure Dean even if it killed him because it would be better to die than to let his brother be condemned. Again.

Dean was quiet on the way there. He had told Sam to get the chains and anything else to keep him in place. He didn't know what kind of abnormal powers the Mark gave him, but he didn't want to risk anything.

As Sam reluctantly secured Dean in place, there was a moment of breathless silence. Neither of them said anything, but there was something waiting to be said.

Finally, Dean broke the silence. "Whatever happens," he said, " no matter what I say... don't stop, okay?"

"I won't." Sam wished they didn't have to talk about this.

"I mean it, Sam. Don't listen to me. Don't stop until it's done or..."

"Or you're dead, you mean? Dean, if we're gonna die... we're gonna be us, okay? I'm not letting you go like this."

Sam stood up and walked back to the rundown confessional where he had spilled out all his sins the last time. Once again, he spoke them aloud, knowing Dean could hear him. Sam wanted him to hear.

When he was finished, he returned to the small table to prepare the first dose of Dean's cure, refusing to allow himself to imagine a scenario where it didn't work.

"I'm sorry, Sam," Dean said quietly. "I don't really know what that means, but I'm sorry."

Sam nodded, still facing away from his brother. "I know," he said. "And when we're done here, we'll work it all out, we'll go back to the way things were when... when it was just you and me."

Sam turned around, holding the needle, but trying not to look too threatening. Dean smiled a sad, longing smile, and Sam pushed the needle into his neck.

**~oOo~**

Metatron's body wasn't cold on the floor before Gadreel had addressed the entire angel population, informing them of what had happened. Their leader had betrayed them. He was using them, trying to control Heaven and make himself a god, all of which they heard on the angel radio before Gadreel had managed to break free and stop Metatron from killing Castiel.

None of the three angels in the office knew what was going to happen next. The doorway was still closed, but there were plenty of angels who had been loyal to Metatron right outside. Hannah locked the doors to give them time to decide on their next move, but it was unlikely the rest of the angels would choose to trust Gadreel and Castiel like she had. And even she had needed convincing.

"We did the right thing," she said, more to herself than the others.

"We have created a power vacuum," Gadreel replied matter-of-factly. "We need a leader. Now, before the factions start up again."

"But who is qualified?" Castiel said. "Who has the power and the decency to give them what they need?"

No one pointed out the way Gadreel said "we" and Castiel said "them," but it was an obvious distinction. Castiel would not, nor could not, be a leader of angels. Metatron had been right when he said that Castiel was too concerned with two little humans to put the needs of his own people above them.

Hannah seemed to be thinking about that fact as she paced the soft carpet. She stopped suddenly and looked at Gadreel. "You are the only one strong enough," she said. "The only one who could unite us now."

Gadreel shook his head, not looking at Hannah. "I cannot. All the things I have done..."

"You came back. You saved us from Metatron's plans."

"You haven't done half the evil you think you have," Castiel said. He could see Hannah's point. Gadreel was older than most of them, he still held to the ancient ways of doing things, the ways that had kept the peace until very recently. Perhaps he could take them back there. "And anyway," Castiel went on. "There are only a few humans who will never forgive you, and you don't have to answer to them. But I do. So I think I should go."

"You won't stay and help us rebuild?" Hannah asked.

"I have done enough damage. Of course I will help you any way I can from Earth, but that is where I belong. Where I should stay."

"You would abandon your family for a human?"

Castiel gave Hannah a sympathetic look. "I did so a long time ago, I just never realized it fully until now. Perhaps if I had, it would have saved everyone a lot of pain."

Gadreel stood from where he was leaning against the desk and met Castiel's gaze. "Go, brother," he said. "But always know that as long as I live, you may return."

Yes, Gadreel was meant to be the angels' leader. Maybe he didn't know it yet. Maybe he was starting to. Either way, Heaven was in as good hands as Castiel could leave it.

"Thank you," he said. "If you ever need me, don't hesitate."

Castiel walked to the doors and opened them, gazing out into the faces of angels who had once followed him. They all stared as he passed, then noticing Hannah and Gadreel behind him. When they reached the portal, Gadreel told the guards to allow Castiel to return to Earth and to open up the doors so that anyone could come and go. They obeyed.

**~oOo~**

Anger. Hate. Fear.

Dean was seeing red. Literally. There was a rusty tint to the images around him: blackened, distorted things that had little resemblance to how he remembered the world. But it was all he could see now. All he could feel. He knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he wanted this, that Sam was trying to save him. But sometimes, he couldn't control the things that came out of his mouth.

The chains held him, which was almost a shock, but he could do far more damage with his words. Because he knew Sam, knew what he feared, what he wanted, what he loved. And as a demon, Dean had perfect clarity on how to exploit those weaknesses, as he thought of them at the time. He didn't even remember everything he said, but he remembered the look in Sam's eyes as he continued plunging in the needle anyway.

It had been too long. Longer than the eight hours it was supposed to take. Dean's throat was hoarse from screaming, but he didn't feel it like a human would feel it. Pain of that sort didn't bother him now.

Sometimes, Dean had moments of clarity, and he noticed that Sam wasn't just tired and weary of the verbal arrows Dean flung at him. He was in pain. Physical pain, yes, but something more than that too. He was sad. And it was one such moment that Dean realized why: he hated seeing his brother like this. Just as Dean had hated leaving Sam in Bobby's panic room when he was on demon blood. This was like that. At least, Dean thought so. He wasn't sure of anything anymore.

Time seemed to have no meaning. All that existed was blood and pain. It was like Hell in that, only it was too quiet. Dean's tormentor didn't taunt him or offer him any respite. He just went on in silence, never stopping to rest, even between doses. It was as if he were afraid to close his eyes and let go of his fragile control.

It was probably 16 hours in when Dean was certain he was going to die. A deep gnawing feeling was spreading from his gut, like he was being eaten from the inside. Sam's blood was burning in his veins, pumping through his dead heart. His pulse raced, but more than that his essence felt as if it were being consumed. It got worse with each new dose until it was all Dean could do to keep his head up and eyes open. Death would be a relief. Even if he were destined for Hell, it was better than this. This twisting and changing and undoing of his very soul.

Dean was too far gone to realize that was a good thing.

It all ended in light. Beautiful, excruciating light.

**~oOo~**

When Castiel returned to the bunker, he was surprised to find it empty except for Crowley, who was sitting in one of the cushioned chairs in the library. He was drinking from a crystal glass and looking mildly annoyed.

"Wasn't expecting you back so soon," he said. "Don't you have a bunch of angels to babysit?"

"Where is Sam?" Castiel said, ignoring the question.

"I thought you had a crush on the other one?" Crowley smirked at his own joke.

"Metatron told me..."

Crowley raised his eyebrows. "That Dean was dead? Well, that's up for debate."

"Are they at the hospital?"

"This isn't that sort of thing."

"_Do_ you know where they are?" Castiel was beginning to lose his patience if he had any for Crowley to begin with.

"Perhaps."

"What do you want? What could you possibly want from _me_?"

"Assuming I tell you where the Winchesters have gone to, you would do me the favor of stopping them."

"Stopping them?"

"Yes. I have reason to believe that the *ahem* procedure Sam is attempting on Dean will only lead to a bigger mess which I will undoubtedly have to clean up. If I tell you where they are, you will stop them. It serves both our interests, really. You potentially save their lives, and I have things the way they're supposed to be."

"What things? Does this have to do with the Mark of Cain?"

"Why would you think that?"

"What other interest do you have in Dean? You want him to be your weapon, and Sam is trying to save him. Why would I stop them?"

"Because they may very well end up dead as a result. Which would you rather?"

Castiel knew that his friends _would_ rather be dead than enslaved to Crowley, but he wasn't about to say that to ruin his chances of finding and maybe helping them. He could agree. He could say he would try to stop them. He just wouldn't try very hard.

"If I promise to try, you'll tell me where they are?"

"That is the deal. No going back on this one. You're not nearly strong enough for a fight with me."

"I will," Castiel said. "I'll do what I can to save them. Now where are they?"

Crowley smiled as if he'd won some great prize. "You remember the old church they dragged me to? They've been there almost 24 hours now. I'm assuming it's taking longer because Cain was no ordinary demon."

Demon. Dean was a demon. Castiel ran from the room, never having wished more strongly to have his wings back.

**~oOo~**

When it was over, Sam could barely stand to unlock the chains. He'd lost a lot of blood, but it was more than that. It was the angry red needle marks on Dean's neck overlapping each other. It was Sam's blood running down Dean's face. It was the way Dean slumped over as if dead, and Sam didn't have the energy to check if he were alive. He just unlocked the shackles and let them fall to the floor, believing that soon enough, Dean would wake up. He would open his eyes, and Sam would see bright green, not black.

Maybe Sam was tired because he'd been hyper-alert for the last 24+ hours. He actually couldn't remember the last time he slept. He had tunnel vision, and he felt cold. But he had to make sure. He couldn't collapse until he was absolutely finished.

As the last of the chains came off, Dean fell forward and Sam caught him. He moaned softly. He was alive. But they weren't out of the woods yet. Dean's skin was burning, and when Sam touched his arm, he let out another muffled cry of pain. Sam pushed back Dean's sleeve and saw that where the Mark of Cain had once been, a massive infection had formed. That would explain the fever. And Dean would be dehydrated and weak. Sam hadn't really thought this far ahead when he was just trying to make his brother human again.

"Sammy..." Dean's voice was faint, as if it were coming from a long way off.

"It's okay Dean," Sam said. "You've got an infection in your arm. I'm gonna take care of it."

Sam managed to pull Dean out of the chair and slide him across the floor so he could lean him against the wall. A brief moment of sharp focus allowed Sam to see that Dean really wasn't looking good. His face was whiter than it should have been, and his eyes had thick black circles around them. Maybe all the blood on his face wasn't just Sam's.

Sam hurried out to the car to get the emergency kit they always carried. A surge of energy hit him as he realized that he was finally doing something to heal Dean rather than hurt him. He also grabbed more holy water, towels, and whatever painkillers he could find.

When he got back into the church, Dean had fallen over on his side, and his eyes were closed. For a second, Sam feared the worst, but then he saw that Dean was still breathing steadily, and he started to work. First, he sterilized the demon knife, thinking it would be the best to open the infected area to let it drain. He took one of the bowls, normally used for spells and placed it under Dean's arm. As soon as the blade touched his skin, Dean jolted back to consciousness. Sam had to hold him still to keep him from hurting himself. But maybe it was a good thing he was awake.

Sam grabbed the painkillers and some water and gave them to Dean. "This will help," he said.

Dean took them without question. It didn't look like he had the energy to make much of a protest.

Turning back to Dean's arm, Sam noticed that an ugly puss-like substance was beginning to flow from the small cut. But it needed to be bigger. Sam just used the tip of the knife to cut a longer incision in Dean's skin. He didn't flinch this time, but Sam could feel his muscles tense up. The substance continued to flow, going from a beige color to darker brown the more it came. And there was blood in it too. Sam had been expecting that. He used the holy water to flush the wound, hoping that would help remove the evil this infection embodied.

Not long into this process, Dean's breathing became shallow. Whether from pain or something else, Sam wasn't sure he wanted to know. Dean's eyes were unfocused and glassy, and a blanket of sweat covered his face.

"It's not gonna come out," he said with surprising clarity.

"What are you talking about?" Sam replied. "It's going fine."

"No... I can feel it, Sammy. It's... got a hold on me. It won't let go."

"Dean, I'm pouring holy water all over you, and it's not hurting you. You drank it." Sam wasn't sure what good logic would do right now, but it was his default when he couldn't think straight otherwise.

Dean swallowed hard and stared upwards with his head laid back against the wall. "I'm sorry," he said. "Sorry you had to..."

"It's fine, Dean." Sam was a little busy to listen to this right now.

"No it's not," Dean argued. "I know... what it's like. Hurting you... because it's the only way to help."

Sam suddenly realized that Dean wasn't talking about anything recent. He wasn't talking about how it was all his fault and how much he always screwed things up. He was talking about the panic room. About Bobby's house. Five years ago. Dean knew what it felt like to watch his brother suffer without being able to stop it. And he'd gone through that twice.

"You asked me to do this," Sam said, not looking at Dean's face. "You said no matter what... I had to. It's gonna be okay."

Dean seemed to be losing the breath to speak every passing second. "If it's not..." he said. "If it's not... it's okay."

If it's not okay, it's okay? Dean wasn't thinking straight. He was exhausted and fighting off whatever hold the Mark still had on him. He'd be fine as soon as the last of it drained out.

It kept coming, though. Sam had to get more water, and worried about running out. He thought about cutting the skin open wider, but he didn't want to push any of that substance into Dean's body. He needed something to draw out that poisonous ooze, but he didn't have anything on hand. Hot water would help, but he had no way to heat it. He thought about getting Dean in the car and taking him home where they had more supplies, but he wasn't sure he could stay focused enough to drive, or if Dean would live through it. He just didn't know. And that was enough to keep him crouching there on the floor, watching and waiting.

There was more blood now, and Sam wasn't sure if that were a good thing. It could mean that the infection was almost out of Dean's system, or this could all just be a surface problem. The Mark had never just been a blight on Dean's skin. Maybe this was all just external. Maybe Sam could heal Dean's wound, but the Mark would still be there on the inside, seared into Dean's soul.

Sam couldn't think like that. He hadn't come all this way to save his brother only to give up now. This was what they did. They pushed through the pain and fear and exhaustion, and they made it to the other side. They would survive this. They had to. Sam needed to have his brother back. He needed to know they could be like they were before the lies and the fighting. He needed to know that all they had sacrificed had been worth it because at least they still had each other. They had to still have that.

There was nothing but blood now. Maybe too much of it, but Sam could hardly see straight. He did his best to clean and bandage the wound.

How long had it been since he started? An hour? It didn't matter. It was a funny feeling to realize he'd had two hours of sleep in the last four days. Or was it five? Didn't matter.

He couldn't last much longer. Sam cleared away the odds and ends of his impromptu medical experiment until he was left with just himself and Dean sitting against the wall, shoulder to shoulder. Dean was still barely conscious, but he hadn't said anything in a long time. His breathing sounded halfway normal again, and his skin didn't feel so hot. Sam managed to get him to drink a bit more water, and then realized he should probably have some too.

As he set the empty container aside, Sam felt Dean's head fall onto his shoulder. But Sam wasn't alarmed. Dean was just tired. He was going to be fine. Maybe that's what Sam told himself so he wouldn't feel guilty letting his own head rest against Dean's and closing his eyes. Just for a minute.

**~oOo~**

When Castiel arrived at the church, he already knew he was too late to stop whatever was going to happen. He couldn't feel any demonic presence, and even in his weakened state, he should have been able to sense it. Whether that was a good thing remained to be seen. Sam could have failed. Dean could be gone.

But the car was outside, and even as a demon, Dean wouldn't have left that. Would he?

Upon entering the building, Castiel got his answer. Sam and Dean were both asleep against the wall left of the doors. It had worked. They were still alive, though they looked severely weakened from the ordeal. That wasn't important. They would be okay. Castiel could help them recover. For the moment, their enemies were dead. They had time to regroup.

The one thing that concerned Castiel was the poorly wrapped bandage on Dean's arm that was seeping blood. But Castiel wasn't about to adjust it with the way Dean's arm was wedged between their bodies. Sam, at least, would wake up—and probably shoot first.

So, Castiel set to cleaning up the mess Sam had left. He found a bowl full of something rather disgusting that he thought had best be burned. He took it outside for that, because as much as it smelled now, it would certainly be much worse when fire was added to the equation. While he was outside, Castiel put away the weapons and equipment Sam had used. He was sure to clean them and put them back where they belonged in the trunk of the Impala. Dean would want his armory to be in order the next time he used it.

By the time Castiel went back inside, Sam was awake and blinking in confusion. "How did you find us?" he asked quietly, so as not to wake Dean who was still sleeping on his shoulder.

"Crowley," Castiel replied. "He made me promise I would try to stop you if he told me."

"You were going to try to stop me?"

"Not very hard."

Sam smiled. "It worked you know."

"I know."

"He's gonna be okay." It almost sounded as if Sam were trying to convince himself.

So, Castiel crossed the room and touched Dean's forehead. He felt the slightest twinge of darkness left in him, but it would fade. It had been killed by the purity of Sam's blood. "Yes," Castiel said. "Dean will be perfectly well."

As if sensing that he was being talked about, Dean stirred and opened his eyes. He seemed disoriented at first, then a bit uncomfortable. Castiel thought it might have something to do with personal space, so he took a step back.

"We don't have to talk about this do we?" he asked, turning to Sam.

Sam grinned. "What, you falling asleep on me? No, we don't have to talk about that."

Sam got up from the floor and helped Dean to his feet. The latter was still rather wobbly. Sam fixed the bandage, and Dean didn't try to resist. He looked like he was still asleep with his eyes open.

"I can take you home," Castiel said, and Sam gave him the keys to the Impala.

Dean didn't seem to care about being put in the backseat, and Sam looked like he was about to fall over from the exertion of helping his brother walk the ten feet from the church doors. As such, Castiel wasn't surprised that the two of them fell asleep again on the drive back to the bunker. Of course, as soon as they stopped, Sam and Dean woke again. Sam began to help Castiel get Dean out of the back, but Castiel told him he could take care of it. Not that it was particularly easy to half carry Dean through the door and down the stairs into the bunker. But Sam looked like he was about to faint, so it was a necessary inconvenience.

As they reached the lower level, Crowley came out of the library looking thoroughly irked.

"I thought we had a deal?" he said to Castiel.

"I was too late," Castiel replied. "I didn't break my promise. Not that I'm particularly bothered by that fact."

"Of course not. You'd have found a way out of it anyway."

"What are you still doing here?" It wasn't just a question. It was the way Castiel said it with the slightest hint of _leave or I'll make you_.

Crowley made a show of acting as if he didn't care before snapping his fingers and disappearing. Castiel couldn't have fought him anyway. It was an empty threat.

Castiel managed to get Dean to his bed and made sure he was all right before sending Sam off to sleep as well, promising to keep an eye on things while they slept. If either of them had wanted to argue, they didn't show it.

Castiel returned to the library and sat in the chair Crowley had vacated. After the events of the past several days, he finally had time to think. Metatron was dead. The Mark of Cain had been dealt with. Gadreel would find a way to open Heaven completely again. It seemed as if things were going a little too well. There had been losses, of course. Kevin Tran was dead. Castiel was still living on borrowed grace, and that couldn't last forever. He would deal with that later. At the moment, he felt tired. Not the same kind of tired he had felt as a human, but something more fundamental. He was weary. As if he had lived too long, and his body just hadn't realized it yet.

All troubles for another day. For now, Castiel would just be happy that Sam and Dean were okay and that he could stay with them for the foreseeable future. When the time came, they would work out these issues together.

That thought made him smile. Castiel had never felt more at home, more like he belonged, than when he was with these two incomparable humans.

* * *

**This prologue doesn't get into the main story line because I had to deal with some stuff first to set things up, so we'll get to the vampires in chapter one.**


	2. Cold Blood

**Chapter One "Cold Blood"**

"The cure's not working."

Dean's voice was hollow and tight. He huddled in a dark corner of the room. Castiel had long since covered up the tiny windows and formulated a contingency plan. Not that he mentioned this last detail to Dean. He wouldn't suggest it until there was no other option.

"Are you certain?" Castiel asked, standing a good distance away because even his blood had a strong scent to Dean.

"It shouldn't take this long," Dean said. "It's been three days."

"Maybe it takes longer with the Alpha." It could. There was no telling.

"Or maybe there's no cure for his blood." Which was admittedly more likely.

Castiel wasn't about to give up, though. "Give it a little more time."

"Cas?" There was something else in Dean's voice that Castiel didn't notice before. Fear. "If it doesn't work..."

"It will." Castiel knew what Dean would say, and he wanted to beat him to it, to offer his own solution that wouldn't end with one of them dead.

Dean let it go for the moment, and Castiel was thankful he didn't have to make the suggestion that he knew would lead to an argument. Arguing with a very thirsty vampire didn't seem like a good idea.

The whole thing was painful to watch. Ever since drinking the cure, Dean had been displaying various signs of illness. He was shaking and sweating and even convulsing at times. There was a sharp smell that Castiel's angel senses translated into individual molecules rather than the offensive stench it would have been. The black substance Dean vomited up the first day stained the concrete floor and reeked of diseased blood.

But since that first day, there hadn't been any change. Dean hadn't moved from his corner where he shivered and clawed at the walls in his own private Hell. His secondary teeth were still there, and the light still hurt him. It was almost as if the cure made him worse.

Castiel held out hope even if Dean didn't. Perhaps _because _he didn't. In that, their roles seem to have reversed. Dean was always the one saying that things would work out, that they'd find a way.

There were a few things to be optimistic about. The Alpha hadn't counted on Castiel backing Dean up. That was a fluke more than anything. Sam had wanted to follow up on something from a previous case, so Dean had asked Castiel for help with a mysterious vampire problem. It turned out to be a trap to catch Dean, due to some prior experience of becoming a vampire that Castiel still wasn't quite clear on.

But he didn't need to know the details. All he knew was that he wasn't going to let the monster win. Maybe he couldn't bring Dean back to humanity, but he wouldn't give up on him. His plan required speed. He couldn't let Dean think about it too much or he would say no. It was a long shot to begin with.

Castiel was torn. He wanted to keep Dean in sight, but it was so difficult to watch him suffer like this when he used to be able to make it stop with a touch. There wasn't much Castiel wouldn't give to have his old power back. To be his old self. But even that couldn't save Dean from what he was going through. It was then Castiel remembered something Dean had said to him once. When humans wanted something, they lied. Castiel would have to lie to Dean for his plan to work. And Castiel was not a good liar.

Another day passed with no change in Dean's condition, and he had begun to sink into fits of violent incoherence. It might be a lot easier to let nature take it's course, but Castiel knew Dean could never live with himself if that happened. It was time for the plan to go into action. Castiel waited for one of Dean's rare lucid moments before approaching him. Even then, it was dangerous. He could never know when Dean would lose himself to the bloodlust again. This had to be quick.

"Cas..." Dean's voice was faint, as if speaking aloud might shatter him from the inside out. "Cas, you're gonna have to do it. I can't... I can't..."

What Dean couldn't do was left a mystery as he trailed off, pulling his knees tight into his chest and leaning his head against the concrete wall.

"I have an idea," Castiel said softly.

"No," Dean muttered. "It won't work."

Castiel had to think for a moment what would be the best way to convince Dean, and he realized he had known all along. "I'll make you a deal, Dean," he said. "You try my way first. If that doesn't work, then I promise... I will do it."

Dean's eyebrows raised in surprise. "What's your way?" he asked.

Castiel smiled vaguely and held out a cup of blood he had brought with him.

Dean recoiled. "No. I can't. I won't."

"I can assure you, the donor is alive and well. Just try it. If you still want me to afterward... I'll do it. I'll kill you."

"What good is blood gonna do me?"

"This is special. Please trust me."

"Why should I?"

"Because I have no motive other than not being forced to kill my best friend."

"Yeah, and I've done some crazy things to keep people alive."

"I'm not you. The only person this could possibly hurt is... well, no one." There was the lie. It could hurt. Maybe. Somewhere down the road. But not right now. Right now, if Dean drank, he would live and Castiel would not lose him. That was all that mattered.

"Please try," Castiel said. If he was right, Dean would react favorably to begging. If Castiel had the influence he hoped he did. "You have nothing to lose."

At this point, even if Dean wanted to, he couldn't resist. It may have been the smell of blood, the days of unquenched thirst, or the pleas of a friend. Castiel chose to believe it was a little of all of them.

Dean reached out a shaking hand. His grip became surprisingly steady once he held the cup. Maybe this went against everything he believed in, but considering that Dean didn't believe in much of anything, drinking a little blood couldn't damage his conscience much more than it already had been.

As soon as the liquid touched his tongue, a hint of realization affected Dean's eyes, but also an overpowering hunger. He knew now what he was drinking, but he was too thirsty to care. He would regain his senses soon, and he would not be happy. But he would be alive.

It didn't take long for the glassy quality to leave Dean's eyes, for some color to return to his skin, though not as vibrant as he once was. There was a darkness to him now. A vacancy. He stood much more quickly than Castiel would have thought him able. He stretched his arms and retracted his teeth. That brief moment's respite was all there was to be. Dean's expression turned stormy, and Castiel knew his plan had been far from successful.

"It was _yours_?" Dean asked. His voice is back to its usual booming tone, with more than a hint of ferocity.

"I see its effects are quite rapid."

"You gave me your blood, and that's not supposed to hurt anyone? Cas, you're already weak."

"I'm fine."

"No you're not. But it doesn't matter. I could never live like that. I can't..."

"It helped you, didn't it? You're stronger, and it didn't take much."

"Sure, it feels great now, but what happens when I need more? When I can't control it anymore? You said no one could get hurt, but you're wrong."

"Do you think I could be so easily destroyed?"

"Yes."

That was it then. Castiel felt a sickening lurch in his stomach. He had known Dean suspected something about his wellbeing, but he had hoped the benefits would outweigh the concerns in this instance. But perhaps he had underestimated Dean's conscience after all. It was just possible that Dean never intended to live as a vampire, no matter the outcome, and only drank the blood to humor Castiel.

"Cas, I'm sorry." Dean was no longer challenging. He was quiet again. "I'd never ask you to do this, but there's no other choice."

"What about Sam? You should see him."

"I can't. It would only make this worse. It has to be now before either of us has a chance to back out."

"Dean, I don't think I can."

"You have to. You promised..."

That much was not a lie. Castiel had made a promise, and he intended to keep it, though the consequences would surely haunt him for the remainder of his existence. He looked at his friend, so changed by his recent ordeal, and yet still the same Dean Winchester he had always been. The enormity of his task came crashing in on Castiel, and had he been a lesser man, he would have backed out then and there. But he couldn't fail Dean now. Even when keeping his promise felt like failure of the worst kind.

Castiel crossed the small room and embraced Dean. It seemed like the proper moment.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "If I'd only been faster..."

"It wasn't your fault," Dean replied, and the took a step back. "Tell Sam... tell him goodbye for me, and..."

Castiel nodded. "I will." He knew what the _and _stood for.

"You two should probably stick together, you know?"

"Yes. I won't leave him alone."

The gratitude in Dean's eyes threatened to break Castiel's resolve all over again. He let out a slow breath and drew his blade. He needed to do this now. Looking up, he noticed Dean swallowed hard.

"Will that do it?"

Castiel looked at the blade again. "I think so. It'll be easier than..." Castiel did not want to say than what.

Dean only nodded.

There was nothing left to say. Apologies and promises had been duly made. Prolonging it would only be more painful. As if that were even possible. Still, Castiel looked into his friend's eyes one last time. He memorized the sharp green irises and filed away the sound of Dean's voice. He would need those reminders in the days to come.

Then with one last deep breath, Castiel drew back and plunged the angel sword into Dean's heart. The scream that erupted was deafening. The light burned out every trace of Dean inside his body and went out.

As Dean fell to the floor, blade still protruding from his chest, Castiel felt a strangling sensation in his throat. He sunk to his knees and wept over his friend feeling suddenly, utterly, and terribly alone.

**~oOo~**

"A hunter got him?" Sam asked, barely recognizing the words as they left his mouth.

"No," Castiel replied. It was plain on his face, but Sam refused to see. "He asked me to, and I did."

Sam wasn't sure how he got from standing two feet away from Cas to holding him against the wall by his throat. He didn't even remember when he got angry, just that it was all he could feel, all he could think. He was shouting words he couldn't understand. Things he'd regret later.

Somehow, Cas managed to speak through Sam's grip. "Do you think I wanted to? Do you think it doesn't hurt me too?" He pushed Sam off and straightened his jacket, but angry red marks still lingered on his neck. "I promised I would give Dean what he wanted _if _he truly did want it. I tried every possible argument to change his mind to no avail. Be as angry with me as you like, Sam, but don't think I wanted this."

Sam wasn't angry anymore. He barely remembered feeling that way at all. He was just sad and alone and... hurt. That's what he was. "He didn't... He didn't even call. Or say goodbye."

"That would have only been more painful for both of you." Cas sounded like he was reading from a script. "He did tell me to say goodbye for him. To tell you he loves you."

Sam shook his head. "He didn't say that."

"He didn't have to." Cas' icy gaze never faltered, and it was hard to doubt him when he looked like that.

Eventually, Sam had to look away. "Did he say anything else?"

"He said he thought we should stick together. Which I take to mean he wants us to look out for each other since he doubtless believes we are incapable of the task on our own."

Sam nodded. Of course that was what Dean wanted. And he wasn't sure whether it was for his brother's sake or his own, but Sam would follow those last instructions. At least that way, they wouldn't be alone. But it would only be a facade. They were both alone without Dean, just in the same building, in the same room. Without Dean, it seemed as if the whole world were alone.

**~oOo~**

It wasn't like waking up. It was more like being instantly teleported from one place to another, and the feeling was all too familiar. Dying was just a nasty habit Dean had.

It was daytime in Purgatory, which was hardly significant, since there was barely any light to begin with. Neither did time really exist, so Dean wasn't concerned. He had come home. This was where he belonged. The last time he was there was more of a preview of things to come in his mind. He fit in far too well for a human, and now he didn't have that problem. He was one of the monsters.

One upside to all this was that Dean's vampire senses allowed him to know what was coming. To know who was around. Nothing seemed too close at the moment, but there was a familiar scent, one he couldn't quite place. He decided to follow it anyway.

Along the way, he'd look for Benny, as well as any other friendlies he might find, though he wasn't banking on it. Purgatory was all about survival, and he would need a few allies for that. Just one really. If he could only find Benny, Dean would be okay. He'd embrace the life—or non-life—he'd been dealt. Just so long as he wasn't alone.

But he was alone. At first anyway. That familiar, yet foreign scent called him further and further into the eternal woods. Everything looked the same here, but there was space; there was time. It just wasn't the same as on Earth. Someone much smarter than Dean would probably have an explanation for why that was. Something to do with another plane of existence.

Several days went by, marked by the darkening and lightening of the sky. Eventually, Dean was forced to sleep. He'd always hated this part even when he did have backup. He decided it would be better to catch a half hour here and there on his journey rather than trying to get several hours at once. It wasn't as if he could sleep soundly for more than an hour at a time on a good day, anyway.

The scent got stronger every mile, and Dean couldn't shake the feeling that he was chasing something that would change things. This wasn't going to be like his last stay in monster Heaven. He lost track of the days. All he could think about was that scent. He even forgot to be on the lookout for Benny. Though that may have been partly due to the fear that he might not find his friend at all. Dean didn't think about that.

In his brief moments of sleep, Dean dreamt of different pairs of eyes. At first it was those unmistakable piercing blue irises. The last thing he saw in life. But after that, he started to see others. Different shades of green and brown. He recognized Sam's, but not the others. He always woke thinking something was watching him and started running.

It was late one night, the darkest part of a Purgatory day, and Dean was taking a short rest. He sat with his back to a copse of trees, thick enough that no one could come at him from that direction without making a lot of noise. But still, he couldn't sleep. He'd been running for hours, but his paranoia had finally reached an unsustainable level.

So, he sat and stared into the darkness, playing over the past few days in his mind. He'd run into surprisingly few obstacles over the course of his trek, which was unsettling enough. Ever since he first arrived, though he didn't register it then, Dean had been feeling like someone was watching, just beyond the next tree. It was getting ridiculous. He told himself it was just being alone so long. He'd never handled the silence and loneliness well. Dean found himself thinking about driving his car, listening to the radio with Sam in the passenger seat.

No. He couldn't think of that. That life was over. Finally and completely over. It was as if he never really realized it until now. He would never see Sam again. Or Cas. Or a cheeseburger. Or his Baby. Dean didn't know how to think about that, how to grieve for something that was so far away, so permanently removed from him. Every other temporary death he had suffered there had been a goal. Even in Hell, he wanted desperately to get out. Now, he knew he was here for good, and the thought fell on him like a tidal wave.

Dean wasn't sure when the tears started rolling down his face. He suddenly felt irrationally self-conscious. No one was there. No one cared that he was crying. He might as well get it over with. A good surge of emotion then he would be okay. He'd sleep for a while and then keep on running.

But Dean never got that far. A twig snapped to the left from a thicket. The sound was so jarring, it almost seemed intentional. Dean grabbed his knife and pulled himself up with his back to a sturdy tree. There was more rustling of branches, and a smaller figure began to emerge from the foliage.

And Dean finally understood the scent. That familiar tang of stainless steel and gunpowder. He recognized it because it was so like his own, though he didn't notice it until just now.

There she stood. Emma. His daughter. His blood.

* * *

**Thanks for all the reviews so far. I hope getting right into the action worked. This story is going to be a bit more fast paced than my usual stuff because there's a lot of ground to cover. Let me know what you think.**

**Also, happy Independence Day to those in the U.S. (and the rest of you too). Don't start any fires, okay?  
**


	3. Partners in Crime

**Chapter Two "Partners in Crime"**

For a long time, Dean only stared at Emma. He could still feel the hard lump in his throat, the burning in his eyes, and the moisture on his face. There was no way she didn't see all that. It was kind of pathetic.

Dean wasn't sure why he never thought of Emma being there before. The last time in Purgatory he was so focused on finding Cas and getting out alive, that he didn't really wonder who else might be lurking in the shadows. Now that he was here to stay, Dean really didn't want his first act to be killing his daughter. Again.

"What are you looking for?" Emma asked. Her voice seemed deafening in the still silence.

"I think I was looking for you," Dean replied. "I could smell you."

"You can put the knife away. I'm not here to kill you."

Dean looked down at the blade in his hand. He wasn't sure he believed her. "We're in Purgatory," Dean said. "I think I'll hold onto it."

"Fair enough." Emma shrugged. "Kinda ironic, isn't it?"

"What is?"

"You. Here. Where the monsters go." She smirked.

"Yeah, well, this ain't my first rodeo." Dean took a step closer to Emma, still wary.

"You do get around."

"Question is, what now?"

Emma crossed her arms. "I was hoping you'd tell me. How'd you get here anyway?"

"Got turned into a vampire."

"And a hunter killed you?"

"No. I... asked someone to."

"Your brother?"

"No, he wasn't there."

"Huh." Emma looked off into the trees to her left as if something there deserved her attention. "Seems like his sort of thing. Killing family members."

"That's not fair, and you know it."

"Fine." Emma turned back to face Dean. "I was going to kill you then. I suppose he didn't have a choice. But it's not exactly a picnic down here."

"You've survived this long."

"Guess I'm just a natural born killer. Wonder which side I get that from?"

"Cry me a river. It's not like any of us had it easy."

"You gotta admit the deck was kinda stacked against me from the start."

"If you had been telling the truth, I would have helped you."

"Really? You? The guy who hates monsters so much, he chooses to die when he becomes one?"

"You hadn't killed anyone. You were an innocent kid."

"Oh, I get it. You're sentimental about that, aren't you? I could tell you wanted to believe me. You wanted me to be yours."

"Something wrong with that?" Dean knew he was getting defensive, but she'd been pushing from the start, and he'd tried to play nice.

"Maybe the fact that I was born to kill you. That I'd never be yours. Of course, this place seems to cancel that out. You're not thirsty, are you?"

"No. So you're not some man-killing bitch anymore?"

"Well, I'm dead, so no."

"So what do you want?"

"You were following me. What do _you _want?"

Dean thought about it. He knew what he wanted now that he was a permanent resident of Purgatory. "Allies," he said.

Emma looked, if anything, amused by this declaration. "What're you planning to do? Even if you kill all the monsters, more will come."

"Then I'm gonna be the last one standing."

"King of the monsters? Catchy."

"I'm talking survival."

"We're already dead." Emma said it as if Dean might have forgotten.

"But you keep fighting," Dean countered.

"All right. Yes. There's something about this place. It's like if we just survive until tomorrow, things might be different, but it doesn't matter because we like it anyway."

Dean smiled at that. "We have a deal?"

"Yeah, sure. I was getting a little tired of talking to myself anyway."

"First thing we gotta do is find another vampire."

"Because one isn't enough?"

"A specific vampire."

"Someone who pissed you off in life?"

"No, but come to think of it, we might want to be on the lookout for some of those. I'm talking about a friend I met the last time I was here."

"You gonna explain how _that _works?"

"I killed the actual king of the monsters, and I guess I was standing too close and got sucked down here. But I was human, so Purgatory spit me out."

"Convenient."

"Good times. So, this vampire. He'd probably be alone. The others wouldn't trust him."

Emma shook her head almost sympathetically. "Loners don't last long here."

"You did. And he would. We just have to find him."

Emma shrugged. "Well, you do hear things."

Dean gave her a wry smile. "Before you kill the messenger?"

"Hey, it's them or me. But I do like having someone to talk to, so I play with my food a little. Can you blame me."

"Not really. What do you hear?"

"There's a cluster of vampires to the northwest. No one knows exactly why they're congregating, or if they do, they're not talking. I think your friend would probably avoid them. But then, the Leviathan take up most of the area east of here, so he wouldn't be there either. I'd say our best bet is to go south. Nobody's really in control down there. It's chaos, but this is Purgatory. You know the drill."

Dean nodded. "South it is."

They started walking through the darkness away from Dean's temporary campsite toward the south.

"And you can use that super smell you have to know what's coming," Emma continued, as if there had been no lull in the conversation.

"You know, a lot of them will be able to smell me too," Dean replied.

"Yeah, but if your friend is there, he'll come to you."

"I don't know if he'll recognize me like this." That thought was somehow sad.

"You recognized me even though you didn't know it."

"True. He'll know something's up anyway."

"So, if you followed my scent, why can't you follow his?"

"I have to catch it first. You must have been closer."

"It could be a few days then. There's a lot of ground to cover."

"I know. I don't think it ever really ends. You could keep walking and never stop."

"Probably. Hey, just so we're clear, I don't have to call you 'Dad' do I?"

"I'd rather you didn't."

**~oOo~**

_One year ago..._

_Escaping by the skin of one's teeth was a strange colloquialism, but Benny figured he understood it now better than ever. About the only part of his body that still seemed to have any skin was his teeth._

_But he escaped, barely, from the horde that was bent on killing him. He had only killed a few and wounded some others, but it didn't matter much either way. More would come soon enough. Benny wasn't sure how long he could last at this rate._

_He didn't think about it as he ran—more like limped—as fast as he could go. Some distance had to help. Throw off the scent, get out of their territory. He'd have to go further than he'd ever gone before. And in his fifty years, Benny had taken the scenic tour of Purgatory. He knew there was more though. There had to be. The place went on forever._

_He didn't think about what he'd left behind. He didn't have the energy. What he needed was time. Time to heal and keep traveling. Time he didn't have._

_Benny kept running until he felt that his feet would fall off right after he fainted from blood loss. He made it to a small lake that he didn't remember. That was wrong. He hadn't gone nearly far enough. It would take weeks to get to unknown territory._

_But he had to stop. He couldn't go on anymore. The Leviathan or something else would catch up to him before long, and he could only hope they would make it quick. In the meantime, he would try to wash off some of the blood to cover his scent._

_The problem that Benny did not initially register was that the smell of his own blood had masked that of other vampires. It was too late by the time he heard her breathing behind him. He turned painfully to see a slight, dirty female vampire crouched on a pile of boulders by the edge of the lake. Her long hair shadowed her face, and her clothes were tattered and patched. It even looked like she had taken some ill-sized items off of other Purgatory residents. Most importantly, she held a long, stainless steel knife, and she was poised to pounce._

"_If you're going to kill me, sweetheart, best get on with it," Benny said. "I won't even judge you if you take the hat. It's really a great hat."_

_The girl inched closer, but she seemed more cautious than threatening. Like she was the cornered animal and not the other way around. Maybe on another occasion, Benny would have used that to his advantage, made her think he wasn't as incapacitated as he was. Intimidation could go a long way. But he didn't have the energy for it._

"_In that case, I'll just clean up and be on my way," he said, turning back to the murky water._

_He was fully expecting a blow from behind. He would have welcomed it. But nothing came. He washed the blood from his hands and tried to get a look at the wound on his right side. There was a lot of dark blood staining his shirt, making it nearly impossible to see the extent of the damage. Maybe it wasn't that bad. Or maybe he had taken a few hits to the head._

_In the meantime, the girl had crept closer. She still held the shiny knife, and she was eying Benny with a mix of skepticism and interest._

"_You piss off somebody bigger than you?" she asked with an ironic tone. "Or several people."_

"_Just about everybody, darlin'," Benny replied._

"_What could you have done that was so bad that all the monsters of Purgatory would be out for your blood?"_

"_Helping a human, I suppose."_

"_Cardinal sin." She twisted the knife in her hands. "Whatever possessed you to do that?"_

_Benny almost shrugged before he remembered the chunk of flesh missing from his left shoulder. "Don't know," he said. "Guess I wanted a second chance."_

"_How'd that work out for you?"_

"_Wasn't all I thought it'd be. Worth it, though."_

"_Yeah, I guess that's how it goes when you're halfway between monster and human."_

_Benny looked at the other vampire with renewed interest. "Take it you've got some experience?"_

"_If choking down cow's blood for 60 years is any indication."_

"_I myself preferred blood banks."_

_She shrugged staring off across the lake. "Any human blood, I... just couldn't handle it. I guess we're better off here."_

"_Don't know that we are, but no sense moaning about it now. I'm Benny, by the way."_

"_Does knowing me your name make you think I won't kill you?"_

"_I decided you weren't going to kill me a while back."_

"_You're awfully certain of yourself."_

"_So are you. I may be hurt, but I'm bigger and stronger than you, and you've put yourself in arm's reach. It's a fair fight now."_

_The girl tucked her knife into her belt and stared into Benny's eyes, as if challenging him to attack her now. He wouldn't. He knew he wouldn't from the second he laid eyes on her. If he were going to die, he'd do it without killing another creature. Maybe they were dead already, but somehow it still mattered._

"_You got a name?" Benny asked, trying to distract himself as he went back to cleaning his wounds._

"_Lenore," the girl said._

_Benny chuckled. "Quoth the raven, nevermore."_

"_It was a popular name for a while."_

"_Suppose you get enough of Poe."_

"_Honestly, it's just nice to be talking to someone who isn't trying to kill me. Poetry is as good as anything."_

"_I like the rhythm," Benny said through gritted teeth as a particularly painful jolt reverberated down his arm when he tried to shrug off his coat._

"_Need help with that?" Lenore asked, moving closer._

_Benny was putting his life in her hands already. "I'd appreciate it."_

_Lenore helped him get his coat all the way off and examined the shoulder wound. Benny closed his eyes and began reciting "The Raven" in his head. It was only after he reached the second stanza that he realized he was speaking it aloud. It helped though. It took his mind off the pain, and Lenore worked in time with the cadence. She treated the wounds deftly for a vampire, as if she had a lot of experience taking care of other people._

"_Can you walk a little farther tonight?" she asked when she had finished. "You're still bleeding a lot, but we shouldn't stay here."_

_We. They were a team now. "Guess I'm gonna have to," Benny said, getting to his feet with Lenore's help._

"_Make it ten miles, and I'll let you sleep," she said._

_Ten miles might as well have been Everest, but Benny thought he might just be able to do it. He seemed to gain a burst of strength after his rest by the lake. It was getting dark by then, but it was just as dangerous to move at night as it was in the daytime. And Benny's enemies would have had time to regroup. He just had to keep moving. So, he let Lenore choose their direction and keep an eye out while he focused on putting on weary foot in front of the other._

_Lenore would get tired of this soon. She'd kill him or leave him behind because he would only drag her down. On a good day, Benny was an excellent ally to have, but with the full force of monster Heaven on his trail and innumerable injuries, he was worse than dead weight._

_He wondered that Lenore bothered to help him at all, but he was now in her debt, and he had a nasty habit of paying his debts with his life._

_Benny didn't know how long they had been running through the night, when finally, he could go no further. There was a cluster of trees surrounded by plenty of ferns and grass that seemed as good a place as any to collapse and bleed to death._

_He wasn't sure if Lenore stopped or not. Maybe he would be dead by morning, maybe not. He'd already survived longer than he planned anyway._

* * *

**I'm posting a little early because I'm going to bed soon, and I don't want to wait until I wake up and get around to going online tomorrow. Of course, for a lot of you, it's already Friday, so yay!**

**In other news, I've actually typed up a semi-official outline for this bad boy, and I've made it to chapter eleven. The first eight chapters are all written, with some needing revisions still. Anyway, I only stopped outlining because I had to leave, so I'll probably get further tomorrow. And I don't even like outlines, but this story just keeps flowing in my head that I have to write things down before I forget them. This whole planning ahead thing is kind of fun.**


	4. Night Terrors

**Chapter Three "Night Terrors"**

Sam and Cas buried Dean in Maine. Sam suspected that Dean probably would have wanted a hunter's funeral, but he didn't say, and the fact that Dean had buried Benny as well set a precedent. It was a long drive, followed by what seemed to be an even longer hike, but they finally reached the place the portal opened. Nearby was a distinctive boulder under a tree, marking Benny's grave. It was dark by the time they had managed to dig a deep enough hole.

Sam felt a sickening twist in his gut as he remembered the last time he'd done this. He buried his brother believing he would come back. Determined to save him at all costs.

Right now, Sam didn't have those kind of ambitions. He wanted Dean back, but he also knew that Dean would never come. Not without a very good reason, and Sam missing him wasn't a good enough reason.

Once they began pouring dirt over Dean's empty body, things went faster. Sam felt as if he were in a dream. This wasn't really happening. He'd spent the entire trip from the bunker thinking about just how wrong this all was. After everything they'd been through, to have it all end like this...

That's when Sam knew what he had to do. He had to kill the Alpha. Cas may have had Dean's blood on his hands, but it was the Alpha who caused all this. Obviously, Dean's death hadn't been part of the plan, but what did the monster king really think was going to happen when he turned a hunter? Hunters didn't turn into monsters. Hunters died. It was some kind of rule.

As they trekked back to the car, Sam began to notice Cas' heavy breathing, how difficult it was for him to keep up. If he had been human, Sam would have thought nothing of it. But Cas was still an angel. Had his borrowed grace really worn so far down?

Sam got the feeling that looking out for each other was going to be a lot more complicated than he initially expected. When wasn't it?

"I'll drive for a while," Cas said when they reached the road.

Sam knew how worn out Cas was, but he didn't really sleep, so it couldn't hurt. And Sam had to admit, he was exhausted. More emotionally than physically, but he would welcome a few hours of blissful sleep. He turned the radio on as the Impala bore down the highway. It wasn't that Sam really liked Dean's music, but he'd gotten so used to it, that it felt wrong not to have it on. With that, Sam was able to fall asleep.

But it was far from a peaceful rest. Sam dreamed, like he always did, that he was possessed by Gadreel and just about to kill Kevin. He saw that same terrified look in Kevin's eyes. Just before he turned into Dean.

Sam woke up screaming. It was daylight, and Cas had stopped the car in the middle of the road to stare at him. For a second, nothing else happened. Sam's throat hurt.

"Maybe we should stop for food," Cas said.

Sam realized it was probably less embarrassing for Cas to pull into a nearby fast food joint than to keep driving after he'd stopped like that. At least they were in a small town, and there was next to no traffic that early in the morning.

It wasn't until they had sat down inside, Sam with his food and Cas with a cup of coffee, that either of them spoke again.

"What were you dreaming about?" Cas asked.

"Kevin," Sam lied. It was easier to say Kevin because he didn't want to talk about Dean.

"Oh," Cas looked down into the Styrofoam cup in his hands. He'd been expecting another answer.

Sam knew he should probably confide in Cas. He should get used to talking about these things because there would be no one else to share them with. But he wasn't ready yet. It felt like he had just gotten Dean back only to lose him all over again. Cas was great, but he was no substitute for Sam's brother. For now, they'd just have to suffer through some awkward silences until they learned how to talk to each other.

But Sam did have a job on his mind. He could talk about that. "I think when we get home we should start looking for the Alpha," he said.

"Sam, I don't think—"

"He's planning something, right? He needed Dean for his scheme. Don't you think we should stop him?"

"Yes. But finding him is only one small step in that. He's stronger than us, and he's always heavily guarded. I barely got Dean out of there as it was. Killing the Alpha is simply a bigger job than us."

"What then? You think we should just give up?"

"No. We'll just have to be more... creative. I want to do what Dean would have done just as much as you do, but the 'guns blazing' approach will only get us killed."

Sam shook his head. "You don't want it like I do. Do you even know what it's like to... to _hate something_ so much?"

"Perhaps..." Cas began, then faltered, as if thinking carefully about his response. "Perhaps is it possible to hate oneself to the same degree. Though not in the same way, I suppose."

Sam didn't have anything to say to that. Sure, he knew what guilt was. He'd hated himself plenty after all he had done. Not like Dean did, though. Nor, apparently as Cas did. It seemed that they had the corner on self-loathing. It scared Sam a little to think that anyone could carry that much within themselves.

"Okay," Sam finally said. "We do this right. However long it takes."

Cas nodded and took a sip of his coffee before looking out the window, squinting in the sunlight.

**~oOo~**

Dean didn't dream about eyes anymore. His nightmares were much more clear and yet somehow more confusing. He was transported back to the time when he still had the Mark of Cain. Only this time, Sam didn't save him. He was a demon, and he liked it. He killed his way through hordes of faceless people. They didn't matter. They were expendable.

Then he got to the end of the line of bodies, and there stood Sam and Cas. No. Sam was dead. Dean didn't know how that had happened. And Cas was on his knees in the grass, bleeding. Dean held his own angel blade at his throat.

Dean felt himself smile. He felt a surge of excitement, pleasure at the very thought of what he was about to do. He made it slow. He carved out pieces until there was hardly anything left. Just a tiny, glowing heart still clinging to life, to hope. Dean hated it. He wanted it to die. But no matter how many times he stabbed at it, the thing kept glowing with a blue light, pulsing with vitality.

Dean stood back and watched as the heart began to expand, and soon it had rebuilt every part of Cas that had once been there. He stood, now towering over Dean, his wings spread wide. He was shining brighter than he ever had before, and Dean could feel his eyes burning. But he couldn't turn away. This thing—it was hardly Cas anymore—was simultaneously beautiful and horrifying.

Dean felt an animalistic scream of rage rise up in his throat, and he lunged forward, stabbing blindly until the light went out and everything was left in darkness.

Dean woke with that scream dying on his lips. Emma never said anything. She didn't ask what he dreamed of or if he was okay. She had no reason to care.

Still, he thought it was strange that he would experience such insane dreams while she had nearly none. Sometimes, she twitched in her sleep or muttered indecipherable strings of words, but never anything that made her wake in a cold sweat, terrified to ever fall asleep again.

Dean concluded that she simply hadn't lived long enough to have many nightmares. A few days wasn't enough time to be as thoroughly traumatized as Dean knew he was.

Most of their time, however, was spent walking. They continued in a southerly direction, Emma sometimes noting landmarks she recognized. Dean hadn't come this way the last time. He'd been more toward the north. Which was probably why his earlier visit had been so much more eventful than this one. There were monsters in this region, but fewer and weaker. They came here because it was ruled by no one. It was comparably safe. Dean decided to kill only when he had to. If he smelled something nearby but it made no attempt to come after them, he left it alone. Maybe that was unwise, but as adept at killing as he was, Dean was growing tired of it. Probably because he did so much of it in his sleep anyway.

"What are we going to do once we find your friend?" Emma asked one day.

"Keep going," Dean replied.

"Keep going where?"

"I don't know. Anywhere. It goes on forever."

She didn't ask him many questions after that.

**~oOo~**

_One year ago..._

_Benny woke to a pair of very different sensations. The first was the sound of faint singing. In French. At the same time, he caught the scent of fresh blood, not an hour old._

_Benny sat up, and instantly and involuntary groan escaped his lips. The adrenaline rush of last night had worn off, and now everything hurt._

_The blood stench was coming from the body of a werewolf lying a few feet away with it's head severed. The dark red fluid stained the ground and the pallid skin along the clean cut through it's neck._

_The source of the singing was Lenore as she sat on the other side of the body, cutting his clothes into neat strips with her knife._

_The juxtaposition of beauty and death was almost overwhelming._

_But Benny had to laugh. "La Vie en rose?" he said._

_Lenore stopped singing and looked up at him. "My grandmother used to sing it to me when I was a child. If I was sad or afraid. I haven't heard it in a long time."_

_"Vous avez une belle voix," Benny said._

_Lenore smiled. "I suppose you picked that up in Louisiana?" So, she had noticed._

_Benny nodded. "Haven't used it in a long time. My accent's getting rusty."_

_"I think it's fine."_

_"Was your grandmother from France, or did she just like Edith Piaf?"_

_"Both." Lenore turned back to her work. "She promised to take me to Paris someday. But that was before... well..."_

_Benny knew what the before meant. Before she was turned. Before she became a monster. "So you never went?"_

_"Sitting in a confined space with a bunch of prepackaged meals never seemed like a good idea."_

_"I suppose they wouldn't let you take blood bags on a plane. Might attract some unwanted questions."_

_"Did you ever travel?"_

_"On a boat. A lot of boats. Ships. Just about anything seaworthy. Piracy seemed like a good idea at the time."_

_"When did it stop being a good idea?"_

_"When the target was a beautiful woman." Benny smiled ruefully. Andrea had been beautiful in more ways than one, but her memory was tainted now._

_"And your crew didn't like that," Lenore deduced. "Made an example of you."_

_"Wasn't wise to cross The Old Man. I got him back in the end."_

_Lenore looked up with a confused expression. "How did you manage that?"_

_"I mentioned that I helped a couple humans, didn't I? Well, it started when one of them got trapped in here. I helped him get out in exchange for a ride."_

_"There's a way out?" Lenore seemed far too excited about this prospect._

_"Not for us. For humans. They don't belong here. But I learned a spell. A way I could tag along. But without a human, it's useless."_

_"If you had a human for an ally, how did you end up back here?"_

_"His brother was stuck here and didn't know the way out."_

_"So you died to save your friend's brother?"_

_Benny almost wanted to laugh hearing it out loud like that. "You make it sound so pathetic."_

_"Guess it depends on how you felt about your friend's brother."_

_"He hated me. Hunters tend to feel that way about vampires."_

_"Wait a second, you helped a hunter out of here and he kept his end? You said he was your friend? And..." A strange sort of realization dawned in Lenore's eyes. "It was Sam Winchester, wasn't it?"_

_It was Benny's turn to be surprised. "You know them? Did they kill you?"_

_"Technically no. It was Sam who convinced Dean not to kill me. But later... later I wanted to die, and their friend did it. I think he was an angel."_

_"Castiel. He was here too. Long story. But it was Dean who got me out."_

_Lenore frowned. "That doesn't seem like him. And why would Sam hate you? If you weren't killing anyone?"_

_"I think it had more to do with his brother making new friends than anything. He didn't trust me."_

_Lenore shook her head with an amused look. "How times change."_

_"He came around in the end. When I saved his ass. I was supposed to go back with him, but..."_

_Benny didn't look at Lenore with those last words. He hadn't meant to bring that up. How he never intended to return. Why he knew he belonged here._

_But Lenore seemed to understand without him needing to explain. "There's no place for a vampire that doesn't kill," she said bitterly. "We need to check your wounds. I made bandages."_

_Benny wasn't surprised by the change of subject, but he hadn't realized that was what she was doing with the werewolf's shirt. It made sense, though. So, he let her check the multiple injuries that seemed to hurt more now than they had yesterday. She spent the most time on the stab wound in his side and the chunk of missing flesh from his shoulder. But there were plenty of other cuts and claws and teeth marks that she looked at too. Finally, she declared that he was fit to travel._

_"We have to bury the body first, though," she said, nodding toward the werewolf. "He came within range early this morning, and smelled us."_

_"Smelled me," Benny said. "No need to be polite."_

_"Only because you're bleeding. In a few days, the smell won't be so strong."_

_"We gonna be alive in a few days?"_

_"If I can help it."_

_She may have been small and kind, but Lenore had a fierceness in her eyes that made Benny certain that she would take on just about anything. To protect him. That was a funny feeling. He had managed to claim her loyalty in less than a day, and he doubted she would ever go back on that. She was too much like him._

_They buried the body as quickly as they could, taking what supplies they could get off him. Lenore kept his jacket, even though it was much too big. Her own clothes were wearing thin enough that she didn't seem to care._

_They made decent time, but Benny could only walk so fast with all his bumps and bruises. He knew he was slowing them down to a dangerous degree, but there was no other option. Lenore had thrown in her lot with him. So, Benny made himself a promise. If they made it through this, if they lived long enough for him to regain his strength, he would repay her. He would be as loyal to Lenore as he had ever been to Dean._

* * *

**I don't speak French at all, so I hope my translation was accurate. I thought the adjective would have been in a different place in the sentence "you have a beautiful voice" than it was in the French translation I was able to find, but maybe the syntax is the same as English in this case. If anyone knows for sure, let me know, and I can edit it if needed.**


	5. The Unquiet Dead

**Chapter Four "The Unquiet Dead"**

_Six months ago..._

_Dean woke to a persistent pounding in his head, and his left arm felt like it had been sawed off. He blinked for a moment in the darkness before reaching over to turn on the bedside lamp. He found that he was in his room at the bunker, and more importantly, he was complete human. The clock read 6:45, but he didn't know if that were morning or night. He had no idea how long he had been sleeping. He didn't even remember much about coming home, or even before that. The past few days seemed to be one dark blur, like a nightmare he couldn't quite recall._

_A hot shower did a lot to calm Dean's aching muscles and clear his clouded mind. He remembered dying, waking up a demon, and Sam curing him. At some point, Cas showed up too. Dean took all that as a victory. He knew he had a long way to go to fix things with Sam, and even Cas, but at least they were all alive. At least they had a chance._

_Dean took his time about finishing his shower and getting dressed. He didn't have anywhere to be, and he wasn't relishing the inevitable apologies he would have to make. But the needed to know he was sorry. Needed to know he wouldn't... Wouldn't what? Do the same things all over again? No, he knew he would. And maybe that's what he was sorry for. Sorry he was just too damned stubborn to admit he was wrong when he knew full well he was. It wouldn't do. "Sorry, but..." wasn't enough. There could be no more qualifications, no justifications. Maybe Dean couldn't be all that Sam wanted him to be right now, but he could try. Sam had saved him so he could try._

_With that though, Dean left his room and headed for the kitchen. Food first, feelings later._

_Sam was seated at the table, pushing something green around on his plate and looking exhausted. Cas was standing by the counter with a cup of coffee in his hand._

"_How did you sleep?" the latter asked._

_Dean shrugged. "How long was I out?"_

_Cas looked at the clock. "Almost a day. But you had no sleep for several days prior."_

"_Part of that was because I wasn't really sleeping when..."_

"_When you had the Mark?" Sam said. His voice cut through the air, sharp and matter of fact._

"_Yeah," Dean replied. "But we can talk about that later."_

"_Why don't we talk about it now?" Sam had that threatening tone that he got so much over the last few months. That voice that still haunted Dean._

_He needed to stall. He couldn't do this right now. "Because I'm hungry," Dean said. It was true. "And I get downright bitchy when I'm hungry." Self deprecation was always a good strategy._

"_Fine," Sam conceded weakly, turning back to what looked up close like a wilted salad. He just deflated. All that anger and tension of two seconds ago was gone._

_And Dean felt worse than he had before. Sam had been through Hell this whole time. He had a right to be upset. And he was tired. He had just saved Dean from the worst fate imaginable. He deserved so much more than Dean could give him._

"_Metatron is dead," Cas said, as Dean headed for the refrigerator._

_Dean wasn't sure why he felt angry at that statement. Perhaps because he'd wanted to do the job himself. He told himself it didn't matter anymore. Maybe he believed it. "Good," was all he said._

"_Gadreel is trying to help reopen Heaven," Cas went on._

"_Guess you'll be joining him then?"_

"_No." Cas seemed shocked at the suggestion. "I'm... well, I had hoped anyway... that I would stay here."_

_Dean finally took a good look at Cas and noticed that he had almost the same weary expression that Sam wore. His eyes seemed, for the first time, dull and lifeless. Only for a moment, and then he was vibrant again. But Dean had seen it. Cas was tired too. They all were. Maybe some time away from angels and demons would be a good thing for them._

_Dean busied himself fixing a sandwich for the next few minutes. At this point, he wanted to get everything out in the open just like Sam did, but he needed to eat. It had been days. Maybe even a week since he'd actually eaten._

_Sam didn't touch another bite of his food, and Cas seemed to just stare off into the middle distance, which all made for a hell of an awkward meal. It didn't take long for Dean to finish, though. He washed his plate and Sam's and put everything away. He was stalling again, even though he didn't want to. He wanted to just get it out. Why couldn't he get it out?_

"_I'm sorry," Dean blurted, perhaps a little too loudly._

_Both Cas and Sam were startled by the outburst. They didn't say anything, only staring at Dean._

"_I'm sorry," Dean repeated more softly. "To both of you. For... everything." It wasn't enough. A blanket apology would never suffice. "I know I'm not all you want me to be." This was directed at Sam. "But I'm gonna try. I'm gonna do better."_

_He meant it. Every damn word of it. He was going to make this right if it killed him._

_Sam got up from the table, crossed the room, and hugged Dean. It had been so long, Dean had almost forgotten what it felt like to be in that suffocating, though not unpleasant, embrace._

"_I'm sorry too," Sam whispered._

_Dean pulled back. "For what?"_

"_Leaving you to fend for yourself. I should've been there more. I was just..."_

"_It's okay," Dean said. "You were there when it counted. I didn't deserve that."_

_Sam shook his head. "I was no better than you. When you were gone—the things I thought of doing, the things I _would _have done to save you..."_

"_You did save me. That's what matters. We're here. We made it, Sammy. I know we lost a lot, and I know that was my fault. I'm not saying it wasn't. But I'm not going to do that again."_

_Sam looked incredulous, but not angry. Like he had resigned himself to the fact that they would always risk everything to save each other._

"_I mean it though," Dean said. "I'd still die for you, and a hell of a lot more, but not..."_

_Sam nodded. "I know, Dean. It's okay."_

_And just like that, it was okay. They were okay. Maybe they'd still have to work out some things, but the big stuff was past._

_Cas cleared his throat, as if they had forgotten he was there. "I think I'm, supposed to say something now," he said, looking thoroughly confused._

_Dean smiled and hugged Cas too. "You don't have to say anything," he said._

**~oOo~**

_One year ago..._

_On their fourth day together, Benny and Lenore came upon what looked like an abandoned battlefield. They smelled it long before they saw it. Bodies littered the ground in various stages of death. Some had merely a few mortal stab wounds while others had been beheaded, dismembered, and disemboweled. Blood stained the ground and the trees, and viscera splayed out to rot in the sun._

"_We should go around," Benny said softly, as if not to wake a sleeping beast._

_Lenore shook her head. "There could be supplies, things we need. We could bury the bodies."_

"_It'd take too long. We need to move on. Quickly."_

_Benny was feeling much better than he had when he first met Lenore, and he thought he could run if he really had to._

_But Lenore wasn't really listening to him. She had spotted a female victim who looked to have been killed quickly. There were hardly any bloodstains on her clothing. Lenore walked into the killing field, and Benny followed her, keeping his eyes moving around the clearing for any signs of movement. Whatever had done this was powerful and more bloodthirsty than most. And they seemed to have large numbers which was unusual for purgatory. When he stepped in a sticky puddle of black blood, Benny knew what had caused all this destruction._

"_Lenore," he said quietly, but with an urgency he hoped she would notice. "This is Leviathan work."_

"_Yeah," she said absently. She had reached the woman, a kitsune or a wraith, Benny had a hard time telling the difference._

"_We need to go," Benny said more forcefully._

"_Just a second." Lenore was undoing the buttons of the woman's jacket._

_Benny was about to argue further when something hit him from behind, knocking him to the ground. He'd been looking at Lenore with his back to the woods. He hadn't seen the Leviathan coming up on them, and the smell of death was too strong to sense its presence._

_Benny pushed himself up just in time to see the Leviathan scrambling toward Lenore and bury its teeth into the back of her leg just above the knee. Lenore turned with a scream and stabbed her knife into the Leviathan's shoulder. But it didn't let go._

_In the meantime, Benny had gotten to his feet and drew his blade. The Leviathan had the distinct disadvantage of being alone and attempting to take a bite out of someone Benny had decided to protect. It didn't even have a chance to let go of Lenore before Benny had removed its head with one smooth stroke. Its putrid black blood splattered in all directions, hitting Lenore's face and making her look even paler than usual._

_Benny kicked the head off into the trees to prevent it from reattaching. Then he shoved aside the body and took a good look of Lenore's injury. The Leviathan's jaws had almost gone all the way around her leg. If Benny had been a moment slower, she might not have much of a leg at all. Blood soaked her jeans, making it hard to tell how bad the wound was._

_And there wasn't time to investigate further. They had to run before more showed up._

"_Can you walk?" Benny asked, reaching to help Lenore to her feet._

_She tested her weight on her right leg and immediately tilted sideways where Benny was standing to support her. "I don't think so," she said in a breathless voice that betrayed just how much pain she was in._

_Benny moved around to her other side so his good shoulder would bear the weight of her upper body. Then he wrapped his arm around her waist and lifted her up. She wasn't very heavy, but his own healing injuries protested. He could handle that._

_Benny stepped carefully through the minefield of bodies and headed for the trees at the far side of the clearing. He couldn't move as fast as he wanted to, carrying Lenore, but once he was away from the carnage, he found a path that was easy enough. By that time, it was growing dark, but Benny carried on through the night. He wanted to put as much distance between them and the Leviathan mess as possible._

_Lenore didn't talk as they went. Her breathing was shallow and irregular, and Benny could feel her blood oozing over his hand and staining his sleeve. Everything got covered in blood eventually. Benny was more concerned with covering a lot of ground as fast as he could._

_He didn't stop until the darkest part of the night. He found a hiding spot in a clump of trees and boulders. It might be difficult to climb out of, but nothing could get at them without considerable struggle, which they would hear. Because Benny needed sleep. He couldn't stay up after walking all day and running all night. _

_So, he settled into a tight corner between two boulders with Lenore curled up on his lap. He took off his coat to cover both of them, and they went to sleep._

**~oOo~**

Sam wasn't sure whether to be surprised or not that Cas had discovered a case. More specifically, Cas had found vampire killings in a nearby city. It could have been a coincidence, but Sam very much doubted that. They already knew the Alpha had some big plan, and whatever they might find now would only be the tip of the iceberg.

Still, the packed up the Impala and drove the short distance. At least, it seemed short to Sam. a few hours was nothing compared to the distances he'd driven with Dean for much less. It wasn't helpful to be thinking about that now, but Sam couldn't help himself. It seemed like he was always comparing the things he did with Cas to the way they were before. Even simple things like eating or grocery shopping. Of course, Cas didn't eat, but he still seemed very interested in the whole process.

As soon as they reached their destination, they set to work immediately. Sam talked to the local police while Cas did more research on the area and analyzed the information they already had. Despite his scant knowledge of humanity, Cas was great at picking up patterns. He saw things that Sam wouldn't have noticed. Maybe because he didn't think like a human.

They ended up tracing the vampires to a purportedly deserted cabin a few miles out of town. As far as they could tell, it was a small nest. Nothing a hunter and an angel couldn't handle. Under normal circumstances, Sam might have taken a subtler approach, but nothing would ever be normal again, and part of Sam's grieving process had always involved mindless violence.

The vampires were taken by surprise, but there were more of them than Sam had expected. As the entered through the front door of the cabin, they came upon two sitting on the couch and another coming into the room from the kitchen. The first two were briefly shocked into stillness, but the third was more alert and took a running leap at Sam as soon as he came through the door. She managed to dig her teeth into his shoulder before he threw her into the wall, disorienting her enough to make the killing strike at her neck. Her eyes remained wide open in surprise as her head fell to the floor with a _thud_, followed by the body.

Sam then turned to see that Cas had stabbed one vampire in the chest with his angel blade, and was now fending off the second who had a knife of his own. Two more vampires came in through the back door, and Sam positioned himself between them and Cas so they couldn't help their friend. The first was a big guy who bared his teeth and lunged at Sam. But he wasn't very agile, so Sam merely sidestepped and brought his machete down on the vampire's exposed throat, killing him before he knew what happened. The next one was a bit faster, and managed to grab onto Sam's right arm, causing him to drop the blade. She went for his throat, but he was able to get his left arm between them, resulting in another deep bite. With a burst of strength, Sam pushed her backward through the doorway she had just come in. Then he picked up the machete and ran at her before she had the chance to recover. She died with her teeth flashing red in the moonlight.

Sam took a step back away from the vampire's body, staggering slightly. Before he could turn around to go back in the house, he felt something ram into him, knocking him to the ground. He tried to push himself up, but the weight bore down on him, pinning him to the dirt. Something grabbed his hair, pulling his head up painfully. He caught a glimpse of the moon reflecting off a shiny knife. But before the blade could find it's mark, the grip suddenly released, and the weight disappeared from Sam's back. He rolled over to see Cas standing there with his bloody angel blade in hand, looking down at the corpse of the vampire with the hole in his chest.

"I think that's the last of them," Cas said.

Sam nodded, getting up off the ground and dusting off his clothes. "Better search the place just to be sure."

There were no other vampires. Sam and Cas buried the bodies in one mass grave. Now the cabin really was abandoned.

Back at the motel, Sam treated his bite wounds, one on his right shoulder and the other on his left forearm. He'd had worse. While he did that, Cas took his bloodstained clothes and washed them. The whole thing was starting to feel like a bad rerun. From Cas saving him to washing his clothes, it was all like something Dean would have done.

But Sam couldn't think like that. He had too much to do to get caught up in the complexities of what Cas was to him. And there were other questions, things Sam didn't understand about what had happened that night. He waited until the drive home to voice his confusion.

"When you killed Dean..." he began, hardly believing a sentence could start that way, "you didn't—I mean you used your angel sword. But it didn't work on that other vampire."

From the passenger seat, Cas looked at Sam with an expression of deep concern. "I know," he said.

"Why would it work on Dean but not the others?"

"I've been wondering about that. The only reason the last vampire came after you was because I thought he was dead."

"What do the angel blades kill? I mean, besides angels."

"Demons, hellhounds, Nephilim, reapers. But not humans or things that were once human. At least, not in the same way. It works like a mundane knife on humans."

"Yeah, I know. So... what did it look like. You know, when Dean..." Sam couldn't believe he was asking this question.

"Like an angel or demon."

"Angels and demons don't look the same when they die."

"It was more a mix of the two. Perhaps it has something to do with his connection to the Alpha or the fact that he drank my blood."

Sam almost drove into oncoming traffic until he remember where he was. "Wait a second! He _drank your blood_?"

"When the cure didn't work, I suggested it. He didn't know what it was until he drank it. It could be he had some traces of angel grace in him at the time."

"Why didn't you tell me that before?"

"It didn't seem important. He refused to continue the practice as a matter of principle."

"So it may have had nothing to do with the Alpha."

"Why does it matter?"

"Because if it had, we may have found a way to kill the son of a bitch. But maybe it's nothing."

"He should die the same as any other vampire, though perhaps with more of a fight."

Sam laughed mirthlessly. "Yeah, great."

* * *

**I spaced out on posting this chapter yesterday because I had my nephew's birthday party, and I'm trying to keep up with Camp NaNoWriMo. Sorry of the delay. I'll try not to let that happen again.**


	6. Love and Monsters

**Chapter Five "Love and Monsters"**

Days began to blur together as Purgatory days were wont to do. Emma talked a lot. Not about anything important. She talked about trees and rocks and monsters. The only things she knew. And she knew them well. Dean would describe a scent to her, and she would tell him what it was and whether they needed to kill it. She could tell which trees were better for sleeping in. She always knew what time of day it was from the color of the sky, even though the days were nothing like those on Earth. Most of the time it seemed like the night came too early and stayed too long.

It had been at least a couple of weeks when Dean began to think that they might not find anything. That maybe there was nothing to find. But he had eternity. Emma would probably get tired of him eventually, and when she did, he'd let her leave if she wanted. It wasn't like they were really family. But maybe they were all they were ever going to have. Maybe Benny was dead, and Dean would just have to get by with his daughter.

If he could only figure out how to treat her like his daughter. It wasn't as if the concept of parenting were totally foreign to him. But Emma was different. She didn't seem to want to have anything more than a relationship of allies. But Dean knew he couldn't just pretend they weren't what they were. There was a reason he picked up her scent when he first got here, and a reason she came to him.

On top of that, she was the one sitting in silence every time he woke up screaming. She never said a word, never even looked annoyed. Anyone else would have said something, but Dean almost thought the quiet was more helpful. He couldn't explain what was going on in his mind, and Emma certainly didn't care about his problems, but she didn't judge him for having them anyway. If anything, she just accepted all of Dean's idiosyncrasies and went with it. It was nice not to have to explain anything. Emma had no frame of reference, so she wasn't interested in discussing emotional topics.

But after a while, Dean started to realize that the lack of meaningful exchanges was grating on his nerves. Even when he'd been trapped here before with Benny, they had talked about their lives on occasion. Mostly, they were fighting their way through swarms of monsters, but in the lulls, they talked.

Emma didn't talk about anything other than what was happening at the moment. As if she had no past whatsoever. Which was nearly true. But she had been in Purgatory for going on four years. She had to have had some close calls, something interesting to talk about. But maybe it all ran together for her too. It could be that she just didn't remember much.

Dean wasn't about to start the conversation anyway. If she wanted to talk about trees, he'd just have to deal with it.

It was a seemingly normal, bleak day when Dean caught a scent he never expected to. It was coming from the west, a bit off their current course. But it was too unusual not to investigate.

"You're going the wrong way," Emma said as Dean began to move toward the scent.

"There's sulfur," he said.

Emma frowned and followed him. "I don't know what that means."

"Demon."

Emma didn't say anything for a moment. "But... they can't be here. I've never even seen one."

"There's a backdoor from Hell. Maybe this one got out."

"Oh, yay. A door to Hell. That's just what we need in the monster kingdom."

"I can handle the demon. Don't worry about it."

"It sets a precedent."

"Probably not. This is the first I've ever heard of it happening. The only reason I know that there's a door is because a reaper showed Sam where it was."

"Your life doesn't make any sense, you know that?"

"Get used to it."

As they got closer to the demon, Dean sensed other creatures. At least two Leviathans, a vampire, and a few others. And blood. Dean smelled a lot of blood.

"They're fighting," he said quietly.

"Who are?" Emma replied, suddenly whispering.

"The demon and some others. Don't make any noise."

They needed to get close without being seen. Years of practice meant that both Dean and Emma could sneak up on their prey without ever making a sound. As they approached, they could see the fight through a break in the trees. The Leviathans were still standing as well as the vampire. But the demon was holding her own.

A few steps closer, and Dean threw caution to the wind as the realization hit him. He broke into a run and threw himself at the nearest Leviathan, severing its head with one swipe. The vampire leapt at him, and Dean let it pull him to the ground, twisting as they fell so he landed on top. The vampire swung his weapon, but Dean knocked it out of his hand and brought his knife down onto the vampire's throat. It wasn't the cleanest cut, but the thing was dead.

As Dean stood up, he noticed Emma standing warily between two trees. The demon had finished off the other Leviathan and was currently smiling at Dean in the ironic sort of way only she could.

"Emma," Dean said, "meet Meg."

**~oOo~**

_One year ago..._

_Benny woke to the sound of muffled whimpering and a strange pressure on his legs. He was still sitting with his back to a flat spot in the rock, so he could see that Lenore was awake. She had moved slightly so that she was sitting on the ground, but in the small space between the boulders and tree roots, there wasn't much room, so her feet were resting on top of Benny's shins. She was trying to get a look at the wound on her leg, but it was at an odd angle and she couldn't bend it too far without a lot of pain._

_Benny slid his legs out from under her and pulled up onto his knees. It was then he realized just how tight and dark their hideout was. The two of them barely fit side by side._

_"Is it really bad?" Lenore asked, looking up at Benny._

_He leaned over to get a better look, but it might as well have been midnight for as dark as it was. "We should get out into the light," he said, standing up._

_Benny could see the way they came down by the smears of blood on the rocks, but it would be much more difficult getting out. There was no way Lenore would be able to climb it. Benny reached for a handhold and pulled himself up to see how far they had to go. The little cavern was only about eight feet from top to bottom, but there was only one way out._

_"I'm gonna go up and pull you out," Benny said. "Can you lean against the rocks here?"_

_Lenore reached for Benny's outstretched hand and managed to stand on one leg. She put her other hand against the biggest boulder and transferred her weight to it. The effort seemed to drain her, and Benny could finally see her face more clearly, deathly pale and still stained with Leviathan blood. They'd have to find water soon to get cleaned up._

_"Just for a minute," Lenore said in answer to Benny's question._

_He nodded and began climbing as fast as he could. Which was more difficult than it sounded. There weren't many places to put his hands and feet, and the side of the rock was barely sloped enough to get any kind of traction. But he made it to the top and immediately turned around to help Lenore. He anchored his feet around the lip of another rock and lowered his arms to reach her. It was just far enough to get a good grip on her arms without letting her swing too much once her feet left the ground. She used her good leg to push up, and soon, Benny had his arms around her waist, and the rest was easy._

_For a moment, they just laid there on the ground, catching their breath. They still had a long way to go, but Benny knew they were weak. They needed to be smarter about how they carried on because they couldn't rely on strength._

_"You know that whole plan to survive?" Lenore said in a faint voice._

_"Yeah?" Benny replied._

_"Guess I kinda screwed that up."_

_"It wasn't your fault."_

_"It's your turn to stop being polite. I put us both at risk for a shirt and a pair of shoes."_

_"It's not such a bad thing that you don't think like a killer." Benny got to his feet and took a good look at their surroundings. "And I can probably mend your clothes later. Right now we should get to water so we can get that bite cleaned out."_

_Lenore nodded and didn't say anything else. The brief conversation seemed to wear her out. So, without waiting for permission, Benny lifted her up again, and headed off toward where the ground dipped downward, hoping the change in elevation indicated a nearby stream._

_Lenore was more alert than she had been the night before, but her eyes still had a glassy quality, and she took carefully measured breaths punctuated by the occasional gasp of pain when Benny stepped over a fallen log or brushed her foot against a tree. It was a bumpy ride through the dense forest, but Benny finally heard the sound he'd been waiting for. Another ten minutes, and they had reached the bank of a narrow stream with overgrown trees and bushes on all sides. It would make for good cover._

_Benny found a spot of open ground and set Lenore down carefully on her left side. He took her pack and got out the leftover bandages. Then he spread out his coat on the ground and moved her on top of it. The leg of her jeans was barely hanging on, but he might be able to patch it up, so he didn't want to cut them up more._

_"We're gonna have to take these off," he said regretfully._

_"Okay," Lenore replied weakly. Benny could tell she was embarrassed._

_The awkwardness wasn't even the worst part. Some of the blood had dried, causing the denim to stick to Lenore's skin, and it was painful to pull free. But in the end, the jeans came off, still barely in one piece. Benny put them in the stream, weighed down by some rocks to let the blood soak out of them._

_"So, I'm gonna have to walk in wet clothes?" Lenore joked nervously._

_"You're not gonna be walking for a while when I'm done," Benny said. He tried to sound as apologetic as possible without pity. Pity would only make her feel worse._

_Lenore was very still as he cleaned out the bite and began bandaging it up. But her muscles were rigid, and she was breathing heavily through her nose with her teeth clenched. There was nothing Benny could do to make it less painful; he could only move as quickly as possible to get it over with._

_The bite marks went deeper than Benny had been hoping. They would take a long time to fully heal. Never had Benny wished more for a little human blood. There may have been no thirst in Purgatory, but it sure as hell would have helped with injuries._

_Once Benny was finished wrapping up Lenore's leg, he covered her up in his coat and helped her sit up against a tree. Then he took one of the few pieces of the werewolf's shirt that they had left and soaked it in water to clean the blood off Lenore's face. She didn't say anything as he did so, but she also wouldn't look him in the eye. He understood that, and he didn't try to talk to her._

_After that, he left her alone and went to see what he could do about her jeans. There wasn't much material left where the knee should have been, so the pants would end up considerably shorter than they were supposed to be. But years of mending sails and tying knots had left Benny perfectly able to repair a torn pant leg with negligible materials. The finished product wasn't very pretty, but nothing in this Godforsaken place was pretty. Well, maybe that wasn't entirely true. When she wasn't covered in black and red blood, Lenore could reasonably be described as beautiful. Though she probably wouldn't appreciate it if Benny said so at the moment._

_When he looked back at Lenore, Benny saw that she had fallen asleep again. It was probably the best thing for her. He would have liked to move on, but they were surrounded by dense trees, and the only way down to the waterside was the way they came. No one would think to come down to the stream here, and if they did, Benny would be ready for them._

_In the meantime, he checked his own wounds again, which had torn open during the night. They weren't that bad, though, if a bit irritating. He decided to leave them for now since there wasn't much he could do anyway. As he draped Lenore's jeans over a nearby shrub, he noticed a forked stick wedged between two trees, and he got an idea._

_Using the axe Sam had given him, Benny cut the stick free. It was just the right length and thickness. He trimmed the points down and used a stray rock to blunt them. Then he took the last of the bandages and wrapped them around the fork to create a little bit of padding. It didn't look very impressive, but it would make a serviceable crutch once Lenore was able to stand again._

_Benny may have been able to move faster when he carried her, but not for nearly as long, and he had a feeling they needed endurance now more than speed. Their last few days had been slow, but steady, and they needed to keep that up as long as they were injured. Once they were both in better shape, they could run in short spurts and cover greater distances. For now, they had to be cautious._

_Benny found a spot to sit and watch the narrow pathway in case of visitors, and then set to work repairing the holes in his shirt. Every few minutes, his gaze would move from the trees to where Lenore still slept. Just to be sure she was okay._

**~oOo~**

The subsequent weeks after the first vampire job were no less active. Every time Sam thought they might have a lull, Cas found another case in another city. Every time it was small nests, as if they had just sprung up out of nowhere. Sam had to believe this was part of the Alpha's plan, but he wasn't sure what the angle was yet. Maybe he was spreading out his people at strategic points, but surely he would have warned them about hunters, told them to be inconspicuous. But the signs were too easy to follow, and Sam got the uncomfortable feeling that this was the plan. To distract hunters with small things while the Alpha worked on his master plan.

There had been no progress on tracking down the man himself. He was as elusive as ever. But Sam kept working robotically. He barely noticed his growing collection of bite marks or the dull ache that settled into his bones. Dean would have called him out for being lazy, careless, but Sam didn't care. Dean wasn't here, and he wouldn't ever be. He'd left Sam to deal wit this on his own, and damn it, Sam would do things his own way. Maybe he would get himself killed. Maybe it would be a relief.

Killing a few vampires always cured Sam of that sort of thinking. He still had a job to do. The world still needed him. He couldn't deny that it would have been better if Dean had stayed. Even as a vampire, he would have been a big help. Maybe even more so. And Sam couldn't help thinking that if he hadn't been so hard on Benny, Dean might not have felt the need to die just because some monster tried to make him one of them. Or maybe Dean would have felt that way anyway. It was a small comfort to think so.

It wasn't long before Cas started showing signs of exhaustion just like Sam. He actually fell asleep sometimes and he upped his coffee intake significantly. He was quiet too. Well, he was always quiet, but it seemed like he didn't want to talk most of the time. Sam was okay with that. The things they had in common weren't good conversation topics: guilt, loss, Dean.

Sam could see it happening, but he refused to admit it; he was becoming just as fanatical as he was the first time Dean died. Only this time, his work wasn't to bring his brother back to life. It was much less inspiring. He wasn't eager like he had been then. He was tired. But he couldn't stop. Every new case reminded Sam of Dean's sacrifice, of the innocent people who would get hurt if he didn't act. So he kept going.

When the blood started running, Sam felt like he was living. The rest of his days were mere shadows floating in and out of his memory. All that mattered was killing vampires. Every last one of them. And he could only hope that once they got to Purgatory, Dean killed them all over again.

When Sam slept, he fell so deep that his dreams almost seemed real. The memory of killing Kevin had all but faded into darker imaginations. Now, when he closed his eyes, Sam spent his nights killing hundreds of vampires with the same face. Dean's face. Only he wasn't really Dean. He was a monster, masquerading as Sam's brother. Taking all of Sam's worst fears and making them come to life. The imitation Dean bared his teeth and bit and clawed at Sam until there was no other choice but to kill him. And then another one came, and another, and another until Sam's dreams were a blur of blood and dead green eyes.

He woke sweating and aching all over as if he really had been fighting all night. Then he went out and killed some more vampires and started the whole cycle over again.

Eventually, Cas stopped asking what Sam was dreaming about after never getting a straight answer. But he had a haunted look in his eyes as if he knew. As if he'd seen what Sam was seeing, and it was tearing him up from the inside. Or perhaps, Sam was just seeing his own mind reflected in Cas' piercing eyes.

It was a routine hunt when everything went pear-shaped. They had tracked another nest to an old industrial building that was all boarded up with foreclosure signs in the grime coated windows. They had reason to suspect this was a bigger group, so they took all the necessary precautions, disguising their scent and carrying plenty of dead man's blood. They took different approaches so as to surround the inhabitants.

But they hadn't counted on being anticipated. The vampires were ready for them, and put up more of a fight than Sam had faced in what seemed like years. He didn't know if he'd ever fought something that was so determined not to die. After one or two kills, they had him surrounded and knocked the machete out of his hand before at least four of them grabbed his arms and held him down. Sam fought with all he had to get free, but it was no use. There were too many of them.

Their leader, a seemingly middle aged woman, came forward with Sam's blade, and he knew what was coming. He knew it because he could taste it in his mouth every time he killed one of the bloodsuckers. Revenge. Sweet, bitter, and addictive revenge. The woman drew back the blade, and everything went white as Sam faded from consciousness.

* * *

**Life got kind of crazy again this week, so sorry the chapter is a little late. I hope to post a little early next week because I'll be out of town for the weekend. Thank you for your patience.**


	7. You Are Not Alone

**Chapter Six "You Are Not Alone"**

"You do something different with your hair?" Meg asked with raised eyebrows and a hint of a smile.

Dean flashed his teeth and wiped the blood off his knife. "Thought you were dead," he said impassively.

"I was. Am. You know how it goes." Meg shrugged.

"Crowley killed you with an angel sword."

"And you know better than anyone that souls don't die."

"So that means all the other demons I've killed are still out there somewhere?"

"Not somewhere. They're right where I left them. The deepest, darkest pit of Hell. The only reason I got out was because I had most of the demon knocked out of me before I got there."

"And you decided to move to a new neighborhood?"

"Seemed like the best choice at the time. Not so sure about that now." Meg looked around with a rueful expression. "I guess the scenery is an improvement. But what happened to you? Last I knew you were trying to close the gates of Hell?"

Dean weighed his answer carefully. "Yeah, that didn't work out exactly the way we planned."

"I noticed. What happened?"

"The cost was too high. Then the angels got kicked out of Heaven, and we had bigger problems."

"And..."

Dean knew Meg wanted to ask about Cas, even though she wouldn't say it. "He's fine. More or less."

Meg shrugged. "At least I died for something then."

At this point, Emma had come closer to the conversation, and she looked from Dean to Meg with a confused expression. "What the hell is going on here?" she asked. "You're friends with a demon?"

"Friends might be stretching it," Dean said.

"Yeah, thanks," Meg said, crossing her arms. "And who's this? Your new girlfriend?"

Dean and Emma looked at each other in horror.

"Oh," Meg said. "_Oh_. How did that happen?"

"We should get out of here," Dean said. "Plenty of time for stories later."

"Fine." Meg almost seemed to pout as they began walking off into the trees. "What's there to do around here anyway?"

"We're looking for a fabled vampire," Emma said, affecting a dramatic tone. "He may or may not be south of here, and he may or may not be alive. Well, as alive as anything is here."

"And that's another thing." Meg turned to Dean. "What's a Winchester doing a little left of Hell?"

"Later," Dean said, pushing aside branches to find a good path.

"Guess if you walk and talk at the same time, you might strain something."

"He got turned into a vampire, obviously," Emma said. "And being the morally upright gentleman than he is, he asked some unnamed person to kill him."

"Gentleman?" Meg laughed.

"You'll notice she uses a lot of sarcasm," Dean said, not looking back at the girls.

"Wonder where she gets that," Meg muttered.

"We don't talk about heredity," Emma said. "Come to think of it, we don't really talk about much."

"The Winchesters never were much for conversation. You should meet their angel, though. He's much more interesting."

"They have their own angel?"

"He's kind of like a puppy. Follows Dean everywhere. Well, he did until now."

"That's not funny," Dean said.

"I wasn't trying to be funny," Meg replied with a hint of bitterness in her voice.

Dean looked back at Meg, but she wouldn't meet his eyes, and she said no more about it. They carried on in silence after that.

**~oOo~**

_Six months ago..._

_The days slipped into an easy pattern after a while. Sometimes, Benny forgot how long he'd been with Lenore. Sometimes, he thought he always had been. After the first few days, they worked together seamlessly. Having treated each other injuries and made up for each other's weaknesses, they now knew everything they needed to stay alive. There were times that Benny had to chase away the distant memories of his time with Dean. It wasn't as if Lenore was the same anyway. For one thing, she seemed reluctant to kill anything unless it was coming right at them. It helped in the long run. They didn't draw attention to themselves by leaving behind a lot of bodies._

_After a while, the wounds faded too. They were more careful because they knew the kind of danger they had survived. They found plenty more Leviathan kills, but a few weeks into their southward journey, they became fewer. Benny and Lenore began to run into more exotic monsters living on their own. Some of them didn't bother pursuing the two vampires. The ones that did never made it further than the end of Lenore's knife or Benny's axe._

_Some nights when Purgatory was silent and nothing was trying to kill them, Benny actually felt safe with Lenore. When it was her turn to keep watch, he fell asleep quickly and didn't wake at every rustle of the stale breeze through the trees. And when he did wake, it was slow. He enjoyed the feeling of what little pale sunlight there was filtering down through the leaves and needles of the forest canopy above them, reflecting off the crown of Lenore's hair and the edge of her knife._

_Nothing was supposed to be beautiful here. Benny wasn't even sure if he was supposed to be capable of understanding the concept. But he always had. Even the first time here, he had seen the sunlight and the faded colors. The difference was that he had pushed aside those feelings before. Now, he embraced them._

_Benny couldn't be sure if Lenore noticed the same things he did. At least, not until he woke one morning to see that she wasn't sitting against the old redwood where she had been when he woke her a few hours earlier to take her turn on watch. They had made camp on the wide bank of a lake near a large outcropping of boulders. They were far beyond anywhere Benny had been before, and the lake was bigger than any he had seen. It was the lake that drew his attention now, not because it was impossible to see the other side, but because twenty yards out, Lenore was standing with her back to him with water up to her elbows. The overcast light seemed to wash out everything except her ivory skin. That was luminous._

_She turned her head slightly, so he could see her face. Her arms were crossed over her chest. Still shy. But not like she had been when he treated her leg wound. She looked right at him, and she wasn't embarrassed that he'd seen her. Her clothes were in a pile at his feet, and he knew what she would say before she said it._

"_Come out." She faced away from him again and let her arms drop to her sides._

_It made sense that it would be like this. Water was the cleanest thing in Purgatory._

_As Benny walked out into the water, feeling the first shock of the cold against his skin, he knew exactly what he was doing. Love, beauty, desire, they weren't supposed to exist here. But somehow, they had it. They transcended. Maybe they weren't monsters._

_But something else crossed Benny's mind as he reached Lenore and she turned to face him, initiating the first kiss: vampires mate for life._

**~oOo~**

There was a painful ringing in his ears followed by a cold, sterile sensation. It took Sam a long time to really wake up. To remember who he was and where he'd been last. This wasn't Heaven. Or Hell. So, he wasn't dead.

And his head was throbbing worse than it ever had before. And Sam had experienced plenty of head wounds. But the lights in the room seemed to bright and the low hum of the monitors beside the bed might as well have been a chorus of freight trains.

There was something else. Something out of place in that sterile room. A living, breathing body. Sam turned his head, and pain exploded behind his eyes. He barely managed to catch a glimpse of the person in chair beside him. a woman with short dark hair. He could hear her moving, even with the brass band playing in his head.

"Sam?" Her voice was soft through the din. "You okay?"

Jody. Her cool hand was on his forehead, and he remembered that feeling from somewhere far back in the past that he couldn't pinpoint.

"My head..." Sam managed to say.

"You have a concussion," Jody replied with an ironic tone in her voice. "Among other things. You're gonna have to take it easy for a while."

It was then Sam remembered the very important thing he was forgetting. "Where's Cas?"

"The guy they brought in with you? He's... in some sort of coma. They won't tell me much because they don't know who he is, and neither do I."

Sam was finally able to open his eyes again slowly. He didn't move his head this time, but Jody was sitting on the edge of the bed where he could see her more clearly. She looked tired, but a lot better off than he was.

"He's an angel," Sam said. "Sort of."

Jody raised her eyebrows. "Sort of?"

"It's complicated. How'd you find us, anyway?"

"The hospital called every number in your phone, and I was the only one who answered. I told them I was your aunt."

"Aren't you a little young to be my aunt?"

"Thanks." But Jody didn't seem amused. "Where is Dean?"

Sam really hadn't thought about ever having to tell anyone what happened to his brother. For some reason, the future stretched out in front of him as just himself and Cas fighting all the monsters they came across. The thought of explaining how that arrangement came to be just hadn't occurred to him.

"Uh, he's in Purgatory." It seemed easier than saying _dead_.

Jody frowned. "What's he doing there?"

"That's where vampires go."

Jody stood up, looking suddenly pale. "What the hell is going on here, Sam?"

He didn't want to explain. Couldn't she see that? Maybe it was just his head, but this whole thing felt strange.

"I'm sorry." Jody lowered her voice and sunk down to the bed again. "It's just that I don't hear from you for months on end, and now this. There's something big happening. Hunters all over the place have been reporting more and more vampires than ever before. It's like they're planning something, but no one knows what."

"The Alpha," Sam said. "He's the one that turned Dean. He wants to fight the hunters or something. Take over the world. I don't know what. We're going after him."

"Hence the nearly dying in an abandoned building thing. But there were no vampires there."

"Yes there were."

"They got away?"

"No, I think Cas vaporized them or something. They were about to kill me when there was this light, and then... nothing."

"Guess that explains why someone called the police about noises and lights. But if you're going after the Alpha, why chase down random nests? You just hoping to find him?"

"We're working on it. All our searches have turned up nothing. In the meantime, we kill vampires."

"Therapeutic, huh?"

"Something like that." Sam noticed that Jody was looking at all the bite mark scars on his arms. He had a lot more she couldn't see.

"You know, you could have called me for help." Jody looked away from Sam.

"You've got Annie to take care of. Don't you think you've had enough of vampires?"

Jody turned back to him with a sharp look. "If there's some big plot to destroy the world, we're not gonna sit back and let it happen. You have friends, Sam. More than you think. You're not alone in this."

Sam remembered about the concussion after he shook his head and the pain spiked again. By the time he opened his eyes, Jody was smiling and gently brushing hair from his forehead.

And then, he realized where he'd felt that cool touch before. He was a child, and he was sick, and Dean was there taking care of him. Now it seemed like the whole world was ganging up to take care of him in Dean's absence.

* * *

**This is one of my favorite chapters. I love writing about people's relationships and how they develop. Let me know what you think!**


	8. Turn Left

**Chapter Seven "Turn Left"**

Dean woke in the dark to the sound of metal scraping against wood. Meg sat a short distance away, sharpening a stick with Dean's knife which she had borrowed before he went to sleep. She didn't look at him or mention anything about the screaming. Emma stirred a little in her spot under the cedar tree, but didn't wake up.

Dean moved away from the tree, and sat on the ground next to Meg. Her spear was coming along nicely.

"I can finish that if you want to sleep awhile." Dean didn't say it to be nice. He just didn't want to talk to her.

"I don't need sleep," Meg said, looking down the length of the point to see if it was straight. "When I had a human body, I could sleep, but I didn't have to."

"So what are you now? I mean, if you're not possessing anyone. You still look the same."

"I have some theories. Probably a projection of who I think I am. Who I want to be."

"As opposed to your true form."

"That would make conversation difficult. I don't know. It's like I haven't smoked out in so long, I don't really remember how."

"Funny to think you were such an impressive demon once."

"Funny?" Meg glared at Dean for a moment before turning back to her spear. "I suppose that would be funny to you. Poetic justice or something. I hate poetry."

"You've mentioned that. It's just that when we first ran into you, you were like public enemy number one. Now you're barely a demon at all."

"Guess I'll take that as a compliment. It's the closest I'm likely to get from you."

"Probably." Dean shifted his position because there was a pointy rock behind him, that kept digging into his back. He rested his arm on top of the rock, and ran his hand over the sharp spot. If he had some way of breaking the stone, it would make a much better spearhead than a sharpened stick.

"So you gonna tell me how you ended up with a kid nobody knew about?" Meg asked. "Not that I'm surprised, I'm just... bored." She smirked as she smoothed out the finely carved spear.

"It's kind of a long story," Dean said. He didn't really have a reason not to tell Meg except that she annoyed him. But he didn't exactly want her to hear it from Emma either.

"Nothing but time here," Meg said.

"Well, we were hunting Amazons."

"That explains things."

"You want me to tell the story?"

"Sorry. Continue."

"It was just after Bobby died, and I wasn't exactly on top of things."

"Are you ever?"

"Never mind."

"No, I'm sorry. What happened next? How did you manage to father a teenager three years ago?"

"I was getting to that. Amazons go after, well, men. They pick one, and... you know."

Meg looked like she really wanted to laugh but was trying hard not to. "And you got yourself, what, randomly selected?"

"Something like that. Anyway, it turned out that it was the kids who were killing people. They were born like the next day and aged really fast."

Meg nodded. "She came after you, and you killed her. A monster's a monster, right?"

"No." Dean ran his hand over the rock again. "I thought maybe she could be different. But she went into attack mode, and Sam shot her."

"Your family is messed up."

"I know." Dean didn't really want to think about it. He pressed the heel of his hand against the rock as if to push the memories away. He didn't expect the stone to give way in his hand, leaving him with a jagged piece about the size of a baseball.

"Here." He handed the stone to Meg.

She looked at it curiously. "Where'd this come from?"

"Right here."

"No it didn't. I looked around for something like this, and I didn't find anything. That's why I made this." She gestured with the spear.

"It broke off."

Meg looked at Dean with new scrutiny. "You broke it? With your bare hands?"

Dean shrugged. "It must have been loose."

"No it wasn't. I know vampires were strong, but that's kind of ridiculous."

"I don't think it's normal."

"Figures."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"When have you ever been normal, Dean Winchester?"

**~oOo~**

By the time Sam was able to leave his hospital room, Cas had woken up and informed the doctors that he was an angel, and that was why their equipment didn't work on him. Someone suggested admitting him to the mental health ward until Sam convinced them Cas was harmless. Of course, he had to invent a convoluted story about who Cas was, all the while hoping the fake ID Jody had gotten for him would hold up. It was only after a significant amount of rigamarole that Sam was able to take Cas home with strict instructions from Jody to take it easy and promises that she would be checking in to be sure her orders were obeyed.

Sam wasn't worried about that. His last encounter with the vampires had left him shaken. It wasn't the first time he'd been seriously injured on a hunt, but it was the first time he really believed he was going to die because Dean wasn't coming to save him. Which was unfair to Cas, but Sam wasn't concerned with being fair right now. He was too preoccupied by the thought that he might not be able to get back out there because he was afraid. Not afraid of dying, necessarily, but of something like it.

They were halfway back to Kansas when Sam realized that what he was afraid of had already happened. Dean was in Purgatory which meant that they would never see each other again. If Sam died, he'd become a ghost until Heaven was reopened, and then be eternally separated from his brother. Maybe Sam had always been okay with dying because he believed that he and Dean would get to see each other. But not anymore. It wasn't death that terrified Sam. It was living without Dean.

So, Sam followed Jody's orders. He stayed home and organized the library. He cleaned weapons and practiced cooking. He started an herb garden on the hillside. That was where Jody found him on her first weekend visit. He had taken to tying his hair back when he worked outside because it was getting longer and sticking to his face, which had enough hair on it as it was since he had forgone shaving every day.

"When I said take it easy, I didn't mean turn into Martha Stewart," Jody said as she reached the garden.

"These are for spells and warding," Sam said, not looking up from his work.

"Castiel said you'd been cooking and cleaning too."

"Somebody has to, and he's not exactly human."

"I know." Jody knelt down beside Sam and started pulling weeds. "You feeling any better?"

"My head doesn't feel like it's imploding most of the time, so yeah."

"I looked into some of the vampire sightings we talked about. You kinda have to read between the lines, but it sounds like hunters are getting worried. Like whatever's happening is going to be really bad really soon."

Sam shook his head. "What does it matter? We can't stop it."

Out of the corner of his eye, Sam could see Jody's horrified look. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? You're a hunter, Sam. You can always do _something_."

"I can't save anyone. I couldn't even save Dean. I wasn't even there!"

"Sam, that wasn't your fault."

"Then whose fault was it?" Sam finally turned to face Jody. "If I'd gone with him, I could have stopped Dean from getting turned."

"You don't know that. You might just have been killed yourself."

"It would have been better than this."

"Don't say that. Don't ever wish to be dead. Your life is much too important."

"No it's not. Not really. It was important to Dean, but not because I ever did any good. Just because he didn't want to be alone. He was the one who saved people. I just tagged along and screwed things up so he could fix them. But he didn't want to live without me. That was my purpose. But now I have to live without him, and I don't want to be alone either. I'm just like him except I can't save anyone."

Jody stared at Sam for a moment, eyes wide. She looked like she might cry. Then she slapped him hard across the face. Sam gazed at her in shock as she stood up to her full height, now looking down on him because he was still on his knees in the garden dirt.

"What do you think Dean would say if he were here now? You think he'd tell you that you're worthless and you can't save anybody? No! He'd say, 'Snap out of it, Sammy! Go kill those sons of bitches who turned me.' He would want you to keep fighting, even if it seemed hopeless. Which, by the way, it's not. There are plenty of hunters out there ready to team up and fight this new wave. I'm not saying it's gonna be easy, but you can't give up and grow vegetables for the rest of your life."

Sam stood slowly, but he still felt about two inches tall. He couldn't really respond to that. Of course, Jody was right. Dean wouldn't want this for Sam. He looked down at his immaculate garden. Maybe it would be useful, but it wasn't where he should be spending most of his time.

He sighed. "They're herbs," he said. "I _would _like to move up to potatoes and carrots soon, but I think I'll be busy. Do you want to see the library?"

Jody smiled gently and took Sam's arm. "Just don't let me fall down this mountainside and break my neck," she said.

**~oOo~**

_Six months ago..._

_All their lingering was dangerous, but Benny got the feeling Lenore didn't care any more than he did. There was no one around for miles, not even the slightest scent of an enemy. And most strangely of all, the sun peaked out of the clouds for a little while. It didn't hurt like it would have when they were alive. So, they climbed out of the lake onto the pile of boulders and laid out to let the sun dry them. A day like this was unheard of, and they were going to take every advantage of it._

_For a long time, they didn't say anything, just enjoying the warmth and quiet. There were no birds to sing in the trees or insects to chirp, but Benny could almost imagine there were. He was starting to think this whole thing might be a long dream because it didn't make any sense. But dreams had never been so real._

_Any minute, Benny was sure the sun would disappear behind the constant shadow that could hardly be called clouds. But it stayed. After a while, Lenore sat up and ran her fingers through her hair, trying to get out some of the perpetual rats' nests. She stared off over the water, squinting at the light reflected from the surface._

"_I guess it's okay to ask now." She spoke so quietly Benny could hardly hear her. "When you were alive, did you have a mate."_

_Benny had to think about it. Of course, she meant a vampire mate. The answer to that was no. But he couldn't exactly say he'd never loved anyone before._

"_No," he finally said._

"_But?" Lenore knew there was more to the story._

"_I told you why I was killed the first time. She was a human. But she died."_

"_I'm sorry."_

"_It was a long time ago."_

_Lenore turned her head, so that she was looking over her shoulder at Benny. "Time doesn't really heal," she said._

_He looked her in the eye, and then he knew that she wasn't asking out of idle curiosity. She'd lost someone too. "No it doesn't," he replied._

_She turned away again, and the sunlight began to fade. Lenore shivered slightly, but Benny didn't think it was because she was cold. He pulled himself up to a sitting position so that his shoulder was behind her. She leaned over and let him put his arms around her, but she didn't say anything. She didn't have to explain. He already knew._

"_His name was Charles." Lenore's voice came out sort of muffled. "He was the sort of person to drink tea and read stuffy books all evening. He did, actually. It was a habit he couldn't quite get out of, even though he couldn't taste the tea anymore. We had a good system going with the nest feeding on animals and staying out of trouble. We weren't expecting a hunter to come after us. He killed Charles first. I knew everyone's first instinct would be to kill the hunter, and I knew I couldn't let them do that. Not that I didn't want him dead, but... Charles was one of the few who really believed in what we were doing. I had to keep it going for him. But the hunter caught up to me before I could escape. That's when the Winchesters saved me. I was actually optimistic that I could salvage my peaceful nest, but I was too foolish to see that it had already fallen apart. Over the next few years, everyone scattered. They went back to human blood because moral superiority wasn't worth the effort when no one cared anyway. When I died... I tried to find Charles, but I knew he would never have lasted long here."_

_It took a moment for Benny to realize that Lenore was done telling her story. There was nothing he could say. He couldn't tell her it would be all right, because it wouldn't. They were a bit south of Hell, and they were stuck here forever._

_But they had each other, and that was something. That was everything._

_The sun was gone, and the wind picked up, bringing with it the scent of various monsters a few miles off. Benny and Lenore wordlessly climbed down from the boulders and gathered their things. In less than a minute, they had left the lake behind. They would likely never return. But they wouldn't forget._

**~oOo~**

It was the middle of the night when Castiel heard a strange noise coming from down the hall. He knew it wasn't Sam or Jody because they had both gone to bed in the other direction hours ago. For a second, he thought he might have imagined the noise because he hadn't quite been himself after killing all those vampires.

But it came again, a loud creaking, as if one of the doors were under attack from a hurricane on the inside.

Taking his angel blade in hand, Castiel moved slowly down the corridor, watching for any signs of movement. When he found the source, it was obvious. There was a bright yellow light coming from the crack under the heavy wooden door, accompanied by the sound of wind blowing against it.

Castiel stood ready for whatever would come out at him. He considered that maybe he should have woken Sam to help with this, but it was too late now; the door was beginning to open.

That was when things got even stranger. Instead of a closet or a storage room, the view beyond the door was a long golden pathway surrounded by fields and woods. And standing in the doorway was a small woman with red hair. Her eyes widened at the sight of Castiel and she put up her hands defensively.

"Whoa there, dude. Calm down," she said.

Castiel realized that he was holding his blade in a very threatening manner, but he didn't lower it just yet. "Who are you? _What _are you?"

"Charlie. I'm a person. Where are Dean and Sam?"

Castiel pointed through the door. "And what's that?"

Charlie looked back. "Oz," she said, as if it should have been obvious. "Who are you anyway?"

"Castiel. How did you get here from a fictional place?"

"It's a long story. There's this key that opens doors between different worlds, and I went to have an adventure with Dorothy, but I promised I'd come back, and you're that guy from the books, aren't you? The angel?"

"You've read the books?"

"Yes, and you still haven't told me where the guys are. If you're here, they must be around."

"Sam is sleeping. I think you should probably close the door."

Charlie pulled the door closed and began to follow Castiel down the hallway. "So where have you been since the apocalypse?" she asked. "The books stopped after Sam dragged Lucifer into the cage."

"Here and there," Castiel said. He wasn't really listening, too busy thinking about how he was going to explain Dean's absence when Charlie noticed he wasn't here.

* * *

**Sorry about updating a little late. I remembered as I was going to bed last night, but then I forgot about it until now. :/ I haven't exactly been myself lately, but I'm hoping things will get back to normal in the next week.**


	9. Forest of the Dead

**Chapter Eight "Forest of the Dead"**

Several weeks into the search for the mythical vampire, Meg and Emma went out scouting while Dean was back at their current campsite working on new weapons because his and Emma's knives were starting to get dull. Meg was perfectly happy with her spear now that it had the piece of jagged rock Dean had given her as it's point. The sharp side was wide enough that she could decapitate or disembowel at five feet. Not that she'd had much opportunity to kill anything lately. Dean had insisted they stay under the radar for now, which meant letting prey pass by just so long as it didn't bother them.

Meg was itching to kill something. Anything. She was still a demon after all. Emma seemed indifferent to the whole thing. When she killed, it was quick and precise. She was an expert. She could inflict a lot of pain if she needed to, but lately, they hadn't run into any hostiles who knew about the human-loving vampire. Meg was beginning to doubt his existence.

Still, she carried on, following Dean's orders because she needed someone to follow. Maybe more because she owed it to Castiel to watch out for his friend. It wasn't as if she actually enjoyed Dean's company. They were too similar to get along well: both sarcastic and single-minded with a startling proficiency at causing agony to just about anything that could feel pain.

It had been days since they had seen any life (or non-life) around their camp, and Meg was beginning to think they had reached the end of this world where no one ever went because it was too empty. Of course, she didn't have Dean's sense of smell. He promised there were others around, just far enough away that they didn't see anyone. The thought made Meg wary as she and Emma crested a small hill that led down to a dense cluster of trees and rocks. They could hear water running somewhere to the west, and that explained why the foliage became so thick lower down. Running water was always a good place to find other monsters.

Meg made for the trees, thinking of how nice it would be to sink her spear into a werewolf or stray leviathan. With these thoughts distracting her, she didn't see the movement to her left, but Emma did.

"Duck!" Emma shouted, as a shiny knife flew at Meg's head.

Meg dropped to one knee and raised her spear in the direction of the attacker. It was a female vampire, and she hadn't wasted her only ammunition. She leapt toward Meg with a mean looking ax made of stone and something's femur. She took a swipe at Meg's spear, notching the wood. That was the problem with homemade weapons. Meg jabbed at the vampire causing her to jump back. That gave Meg enough time to get on her feet and throw the bitch against a tree with a well aimed thought. She was getting a bit rusty on the telekinetic stuff, but in a tight spot, she could manage it.

Meg took her time picking up the vampire's ax and turning her attention to her trapped victim.

"This is actually nice," Meg said, testing the weight of the ax in her hand.

"It's mine," a voice from behind said.

Meg turned to see a man had Emma in a choke hold. He held the shiny knife now, poised precisely over Emma's jugular.

"Let her go," the man said in a slow, easy voice. "And nobody has to die."

"What makes you think I care about her?" Meg asked. She was bluffing of course. She wouldn't let anything happen to Emma on purpose. She just really wanted to kill these two pests.

"You're a demon," the man said. "So you probably don't care about anything, but if you're traveling with her, she's got some value to you. And you know Amazons die just like humans." He traced the blade along her neck, creating a tiny stream of blood that began to trickle down to Emma's collar bone.

Meg felt the smooth bone handle under her fingers and contemplated flinging the bastard's own weapon at his head, but he could easily duck and it would hit Emma. And as aloof as he pretended to be, Dean would not like that.

"So I let your friend go, and you let mine? That how it works?" Meg said.

"Drop the weapons first," he replied.

Meg shook her head. "You know what I am? Then you know I'd never break a deal. How can I be so sure about you?"

The man tilted his head to the side and got a look as if he were amused. This whole time, Emma never once looked afraid. She looked annoyed, but not the least bit concerned that she might be about to die. She caught Meg's gaze for split second before bringing her hand up and catching the man's wrist in a death grip. He barely seemed to register what happened before Emma had knocked the knife from his hand and twisted his arm behind his back. For a moment, Meg could only stare in shock.

"And _you _should know," Emma said, tugging the man's arm more. "Amazons are stronger than vampires. Even old ones like you."

"All right, that's enough," Dean's voice broke in like a thunderclap. Meg was certain he didn't always sound like that. He was standing at the top of the hill, looking down on them with a dark expression that even scared Meg a little.

"They tried to kill us," Emma said in a way that sounded more like _they started it._

"They're my friends. Let them go."

Meg grudgingly let the female vampire drop to the ground. She thought she noticed Emma give the man's arm one more twist before letting him go.

"You never said there were two of them," Emma complained.

Dean ignored her for the moment as he and his friend shared an enthusiastic embrace. Dean was really smiling for the first time since Meg had found him here. Maybe the first time she'd ever seen. But she thought she heard him say something along the lines of "touch her again, and I'll kill you" though he disguised it as a laugh.

The vampire came out of the hug grimacing and holding his injured arm. Served him right, attacking a teenager like that. Of course, Meg had been about to kill his girlfriend, so maybe it was all a big misunderstanding. Which was really sad because Meg had really wanted to kill something today. Instead, she handed the bone ax back to the woman, and turned to see that Dean and his friend were in deep conversation.

**~oOo~**

"What the hell are you doing here?" were the first words out of Benny's mouth. "And what's with them?" He nodded toward Meg and Emma.

Dean had been expecting this of course. He'd have to explain everything to Benny, but at the moment, he was just glad to see that his friend was still alive. Sort of.

"It's a really, really long story," Dean said. "And this is Emma and Meg. They're... complicated."

"I'm hardly gone a year, and you get yourself turned?"

"Yeah, what about that, Dean?" Meg interjected. "We all know how much you love to talk about it."

Dean glared at her. He wished there was a way to kill a demon in Purgatory, but even if he could, he'd never be able to do it. It wasn't like Cas would ever know, but the thought of it still felt like betrayal.

It was Lenore who made the sensible suggestion. "Maybe we'd better move on," she said. "Crowds tend to attract more crowds."

"I wasn't expecting to see you here," Dean said.

"Where did you expect me to be?"

"I mean with him." Dean jerked his head toward Benny.

"Well, that was fortuitous. Not a lot of monsters want to hang around the human lovers."

Dean looked around at the others for a moment before responding. "There are five of us now."

"And some of us might like to know who it is we're teaming up with," Emma said, still looking very annoyed.

Dean suddenly remembered that he hadn't really introduced the other vampires, and even before, he'd never mentioned Benny's name.

"Benny, Lenore, Meg, Emma. Everybody happy? Let's go."

Dean headed down the hill toward the water. They'd follow the stream for a while to lose any scent they'd left behind. Emma was still bleeding a little, but she'd heal quickly. Once they'd covered some ground, they could stop and chat. Not that Dean was particularly looking forward to it. He planned on putting it off as long as possible.

**~oOo~**

When Sam woke the next morning, he didn't really feel any different than he had the day before. He still thought that fighting the vampires was a pretty useless endeavor in the long run, and that even if they could be stopped, he wouldn't be the one to do it.

But that didn't mean he wasn't going to try anyway. Wasn't that what Dean always did? He kept fighting even when the odds where stacked against him, when he knew he'd never win. He was just that stubborn, and Sam needed some of that now. He needed to be like his brother for a while because that was the only way he was going to survive this. Jody had been right to bring up what Dean would have said, and she said it rather well herself. She probably didn't think she was making much of a difference, but to Sam it was all the difference in the world.

So, he got out of bed that morning not necessarily happier than the day before, but more hopeful. He headed for the kitchen to start on breakfast. With Jody visiting, he could actually get away with cooking something.

What Sam didn't expect was to find the kitchen already occupied with Cas drinking his usual coffee, and Charlie gazing into a cup of tea that was probably cold. Her eyes were red, and Sam didn't have to wonder why. She must have arrived during the night and Cas told her what happened. He wasn't looking so good either, but lately, Cas never looked quite himself.

Sam crossed the room and sat down next to Charlie. He put his arm around her shoulders and she leaned into his chest. She wasn't crying anymore, but she was still shaking quietly. Sam could understand. Dean was like a big brother to her. And maybe Sam was too, but Dean was always better at it.

They stayed like that for a long time until Cas go up and refilled his coffee and Jody came down from her room. It took a bit of explaining to sort out who everyone was and how they knew each other, but in the end, Jody offered to make breakfast, and Charlie was looking a bit better than before.

"It's not like it isn't good to see you," she said as she reheated her tea in the microwave.

"I know," Sam replied, leaning against the counter next to her. "I honestly didn't even think about..."

"About me coming back? That's okay. You had other stuff on your mind." The microwave beeped and Charlie took her tea out again.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there. When you got here. To explain everything."

"I'm not sure everything's been explained," Charlie said as she walked back to the table. "I mean, I know Dean got turned into a vampire and he's gone now, but that's about it."

"There's not much else to tell."

"But Castiel said you weren't there. And he didn't seem to want to talk about it anymore, so I don't know. I guess it's just not the way I'd have imagined him going out."

"Me neither. I always kinda thought when we died for the last time it'd be some blaze of glory type thing, and we'd both be gone."

"You know, the world can't really afford to lose two Winchesters at once, right?"

Sam shrugged. "I guess not. Considering the Alpha's planning something big, I guess I have to stick around for a while."

"Cas mentioned something about the Alpha. Who is he? What's he got against you?"

"Every monster race has an Alpha, but most of them are dead. Over the years, Dean killed a lot of vampires, an even got turned once before, but there was a cure, and we brought him back. The Alpha wanted him for something. I guess vampires have this sort of telepathic connection, so once you become one, the Alpha can get inside your head. That's what happened to Dean the first time. After he was cured, we thought it was over, but the Alpha had other plans. I don't really know what his game is, but he's having more and more people turned and they're getting more aggressive. They're not hiding in the shadows anymore, but killing openly. It seems like every nest we raid, five more pop up. Jody has some experience with vampires, so she's been keeping track of it all."

"Maybe I could help with that," Charlie suggested. "I could organize all the data and figure out their patterns."

"I've tried that, and it doesn't seem to be helping, but maybe you could find something I missed. You're better with that kind of stuff anyway."

Charlie smiled shyly. "Well... yeah."

"Breakfast is ready!" Jody announced, carrying serving dishes full of eggs and pancakes over to the table. "I hope you're hungry 'cause I made a lot."

"I'm starving," Charlie said.

And Sam, for the first time in a long time, felt like maybe he could eat to enjoy food, not just because he had to.

**~oOo~**

It was Benny who spotted a break in a dense cluster of trees that would serve as a good camp for the night. The sky was growing dark already, and everyone was worn out from the long day. Except Meg, of course, who didn't get tired. As soon as they stopped, she climbed one of the larger trees to keep lookout still within earshot of the others.

Dean made himself busy clearing out a space for everyone to sleep, hoping that no one would feel like talking right now because he knew they all wanted answers. In some ways, he didn't feel like his circumstances were anyone else's business, but these were his friends—family in some cases. Of course they would need to know what happened to him.

No one said anything at first. They all helped cut down ferns and branches, and nobody made eye contact. Eventually, it got to be so awkward, that Dean decided he'd better just start the conversation and get it over with.

"Everybody better get comfortable," he said. "This is gonna take a while."

Meg made a show of swinging her legs over a branch so that she was sitting facing down on the rest of them with her spear across her lap and her arms resting on a higher branch.

The others sat down on the floor of needles and leaves, and Emma started sharpening her knife. Dean felt like he was about to tell a bedtime story. But this was far from "The Three Little Pigs." He started with chasing vampires with Cas. He didn't mention why the Alpha was after him or that he'd been a vampire before. He also skipped the part about drinking Cas' blood. He couldn't even really admit to himself that he'd done it, much less other people. He wondered if Sam knew. The thought made him sick.

Nobody asked any questions until Dean stopped talking. He knew they would though. There were plenty of loose ends he hadn't explained.

"You wanna tell us why we're all on the same side?" Meg said. "Considering most things around here just want to kill each other."

"I have to admit I was a little surprised," Benny added, "at you being friends with a demon."

"I wouldn't exactly say friends," Dean said.

"We have a common interest," Meg said. "There's someone who would never forgive me if I killed him."

"You know Cas," Dean clarified.

Benny scoffed. "An angel and a demon?"

"She thinks so."

"I don't think anything," Meg argued. "But there are so many things to die for and so few that are truly worth it."

Dean shook his head, actually amused instead of annoyed for once. "Now that that's cleared up."

"Yes, tell us about your adventure with the Amazons," Meg said. "I love that story."

Emma stopped sharpening her knife and stuck it into the trunk of Meg's tree. "It's actually pretty depressing," she said.

"I think I have the general idea," Benny said, sparing Dean the need to rehash an embarrassing topic.

Through all this, Lenore had been quiet, which seemed to be her way most of the time. She watched the others throughout the conversation, obviously absorbing every piece of information as well as the things they didn't say.

"What I want to know," Meg said, "is why the master hunter was friends with vampires before he became one."

"That's an even longer story," Lenore said. "He really _did _want to kill me at first."

"The fact that you were being tortured by that asshole, Gordon put you in a better light," Dean said.

Benny flinched as Dean said this, which at first seemed odd to Dean.

"Not drinking human blood probably helped my case," Lenore went on. "That was really it until Eve came back. I'm still surprised you wouldn't kill me when I asked for it."

"You're one of the good guys," Dean said. "It seemed like a waste."

"Castiel didn't think so."

"Yeah, well, he was all dark side at that point, and I think he just wanted to get it over with."

"But you said he killed you too."

"Only because I made him promise he would."

"It's actually not that bad," Benny said. "Being killed by your best friend. It's almost easier."

Dean wanted to throw up, but he tried to make light of it the way Benny did. "Yeah, and you were supposed to come back, if I remember right."

"You didn't really believe that." There was a look all too much like pity in Benny's eyes.

"Maybe not." Dean looked away.

Meg sighed dramatically and pulled herself up to the next branch. "This is all getting too sappy for me." She disappeared into the trees, and no one saw her again that night.

Emma curled up with her back to the nearest tree, her red brown hair spilling over the bed of pine boughs. "Wake me when it's my turn to watch," she mumbled as she closed her eyes.

Benny stood up, silently volunteering to take first watch. He found a good rock to sit on and tucked his ax under his arm. Dean noticed Lenore watching him, and he was beginning to wonder what was going on with them. Maybe they'd just been alone together so long that they weren't used to having company. But after a few minutes, Lenore laid down too, and when Dean was sure she was asleep, he moved away from her and Emma and joined Benny.

"You can sleep," Benny said, not looking at Dean but rather gazing out into the darkness.

Dean sat down next to him. "I wanted to talk to you. You know about the first time I was turned."

"Surprised you didn't mention it, but that's your business."

"And it's not theirs."

"Then why bother explaining it to me?"

"Because you're... family."

"And Emma is your daughter, unless I'm way off the mark on that."

"And the first time I met her, she wanted to kill me, so she doesn't really count."

"You don't have to justify anything to me, you know."

"Yeah, I know. But you know there's a cure, and you need to know that I tried and it didn't work. I didn't just give up and take the easy way out."

"This is easy?"

"It's not complicated. At least, it shouldn't be."

"Things rarely are the way they should be. Here or there."

"It was the Alpha who turned me. That's why it didn't work."

Benny almost laughed. "But you managed to get ahold of his blood in order to try?"

"Cas did. He tried everything to save me."

"I'd expect nothing less. Pain in the ass though he was, he was always trying to save you."

"You could have let him die."

"Well, maybe it's like Meg said. You'd never forgive me for that."

"He's alive right now because of you. So is Sam."

"Consider it payback."

"Yeah, because I did so much for you."

"You did. Not just getting me out. Trusting me when no one else would."

"And I abandoned you when you needed me. I trusted you because you never would have done that, but maybe you shouldn't have trusted me."

"I always knew Sam came first. You didn't owe me anything."

"I owe you everything. You never got that, did you? You think I was doing you a favor by being your friend, but I'd have gone insane down here on my own. I needed you more than you needed me. I still do."

Benny looked back at where Emma was sleeping and the tree into which Meg had gone. "You seem to be doing fine so far."

"That's not what I mean."

"Then spit it out, brother, we don't have all night."

"We're the same now. And I try to act like I'm just like I always was, but I can't keep it up. There are things I shouldn't be able to do. I'm stronger than I should be, more lethal."

"You always were. You think you were ever normal by human standards? I mean, I hate to crush the illusion, but... Dean, you've always been different. I was a normal human. I had a wife and kids and a job. You don't even know what normal is."

"Now I get why Sam's always complaining about being a freak. I thought I understood him before, but I don't think I ever did."

"If you're afraid of becoming something you're not, I wouldn't worry."

"Why not?"

"Look at you. You've teamed up with Purgatory's Most Wanted. You'd be so much better off on your own or with someone else, but you're still loyal, even to people you don't like very much. That's who you are. Not a perfect human. Not a normal guy. You're a good friend."

"I guess that's about all I can hope for now. It's not like there's anything else worth doing here."

Benny looked back at Lenore, and a faint smile crossed his lips. "You'd be surprised."

It was then Dean realized why they had seemed so odd before. There was something between them. Something that shouldn't even have been possible in a place like this.

"You two?" Dean asked.

Benny nodded. "When the world you live in is full of ugly and you find one beautiful thing, you hold onto it."

Dean couldn't argue with that. And he envied Benny that he'd been able to find something that made him really happy when that was out of reach for the rest of them. Meg was separated from Cas forever. Emma would never really belong anywhere. And Dean lost the one hope he'd always hung onto: that whatever, happened, at least he and Sam would always be together.

* * *

**Sorry the update is late again. Life just won't seem to slow down. Things have been good though, so I can't complain. Sorry for any problems in this chapter. I didn't have a lot of time for revision.**


	10. The Almost People

**Chapter Nine "The Almost People"  
**

Having Charlie around was beginning to change Sam's outlook on just about everything. He found that he was more focused on making sure she was okay than spending his days thinking about everything he had lost. He was able to step outside of himself for a while every day, and it was refreshing. He still had to face his nightmares every time he closed his eyes, and he still expected Dean to show up every time he heard footsteps in the hallways or smelled food cooking.

There were always bad moments, but there were good ones too. Charlie let Sam open up in a way he hadn't been able to in a very long time. She made him laugh, and she let him cry with her.

Meanwhile, Cas stayed distant, and Sam realized that it wasn't all his own doing. It had seemed that they were getting closer before Dean died, but since then, they had both shut each other out. Maybe _because _of Dean. Because he was the one thing they had always had in common, and now he was gone. Sam knew there were other things, but they were mostly painful things, the regrets they shared and the way they both felt so useless most of the time. Sam knew they needed to talk it all out, but it was easier to play normal with Charlie. To act like she really was his little sister, even though he had known Cas far longer.

Jody continued to visit from time to time as well, and Sam started to realize that the ways she reminded him of Dean had nothing to do with Dean and everything to do with her maternal instincts. But Sam had so little experience with mothers that he hadn't initially recognized it. But she cooked and cleaned and asked him how he was feeling, if he was sleeping okay, if the garden was coming along. It made Sam miss Dean, but the ache was almost a pleasant one in this case. He missed something that Dean tried to be, but never fully could: their mother. It also made Sam appreciate everything Dean had done all the more. He'd done his best to fill in the spaces their absent parents left, and really, he did a good job. He was some kind of superhuman, and Sam wished he could have told Dean that before it was too late.

The weeks went on, and Charlie started compiling a document of everything they knew about vampires and everything in the many books the bunker library held on the subject. She was especially concerned with the Alpha. Sam took on the role of her assistant most of the time, finding books, reading and summarizing information for her so she could put it all into a coherent format. In some ways, it felt a lot like college again. Dean would have teased them about being such nerds, and Sam would have laughed it off because he was having so much fun.

It was late one evening, and Charlie had passed out at her computer again. Sam had just carried her back to her room and closed the door when he noticed Cas coming down the hallway from the records room. The funny thing was, Cas didn't seem to notice Sam standing there. His gaze was fixed at some point further down the hall. Sam turned to see what Cas was looking at; there was nothing but an empty doorway.

When he looked back, Sam saw that Cas was moving more slowly and his eyes didn't seem right. As if in answer to Sam's confusion, Cas stumbled forward, apparently unaware that he was about to fall on his face. And he would have if Sam hadn't rushed over to steady him.

"Cas?" he said. "You okay?"

Cas looked up at Sam with the confused expression he often got. As if he had no idea why Sam would bother asking. But his eyes were dull, and he was breathing heavily, and he hadn't let go of Sam's arm.

"I'm fine," he said between breaths.

He wasn't. Sam knew that much. "You're falling over," he said, guiding Cas down the hallway toward the library.

Once Sam got Cas settled into one of the large chairs, he noticed that it was ever worse than he expected. Cas was shaking; his face was drawn and pale.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked, hearing the worry in his own voice.

"It's nothing," Cas said. "I'll be okay in a minute."

Sam crossed his arms and gave Cas a hard look. "Angels don't get sick."

"No, they don't," Cas agreed. "But are we so sure that I'm an angel anymore?"

For a second, Sam couldn't say anything. That was the last thing he'd been expecting to hear. "What do you mean?" he finally asked.

"When I stole that angel's grace, it turned me into something else. And it's running out. Sometimes, I almost feel normal, but these weaker moments have been growing more frequent. It's as if... as if I've lived too long.

"Cas, are you telling me you're gonna die?"

"Eventually."

"How eventually?"

"That is a mystery. I don't have any previous experiences to compare with mine. As far as I know, no one has ever stolen an angel's grace before."

"And you didn't, I don't know, think you should mention this before?"

"It's not as if there's anything you can do about it."

"It doesn't matter! We're supposed to look out for each other. Like Dean said."

"I know he would have tried to find a way to save me, but I'm not even sure how long this will go on. If I don't use any of my powers, the grace could last indefinitely."

"That's the problem. It's indefinite. Couldn't we fix it? I mean, there's so much lore about angels, we could at least try."

"Any reliable information we had access to passed away with Kevin and the destruction of the tablet. Only a prophet can repair a tablet, and there are no more of those. Metatron was very thorough."

"We can't just give up and let you die."

Cas shook his head. "I'm not giving up. I just don't see any options at the moment."

"Maybe Charlie can help me find something in the library. It's worth looking into."

"If you must. I think it would only be a distraction from our current goal. Killing the Alpha, remember?"

"I remember. And Dean would have wanted to get to the bottom of this too. If he were here, that's what he'd say."

"Actually, I think he would say to stop talking and get back to work."

Sam smiled, thinking that maybe he and Cas weren't so far away from each other anymore. "You're probably right," he said.

Then he returned to the table where all of Charlie's research was spread out and picked up the nearest encyclopedia. It was going to be a long night.

**~oOo~**

It was a cold morning, as most were in Purgatory. Meg took it upon herself to wake everyone up by jumping down from the tree in the middle of them. It was only the vampires sleeping because Emma was taking her turn at the watch. Dean looked about ready to bite Meg's head off, which he was probably able to do, but she didn't let it bother her. It only took a few minutes for everyone to get up and be on their way. To Meg it didn't feel all that strange, but she was sure the more human-like ones found it odd not to need to eat or clean up the way they used to.

They began heading in a westerly direction for no apparent reason. That seemed to be the way they operated. They would travel throughout the day, sometimes stopping if they needed to repair weapons or bury a body. Mostly they were left alone. It went on like this for days and weeks on end. Sometimes, they talked about their lives or what passed for them. Meg couldn't really remember when she had been alive. Sometimes, she couldn't even recall her real name. So she stayed out of those conversations.

After a while of this dull routine, they finally ran into something interesting one day. Dean smelled it before anyone else noticed. Meg was certain that he had some kind of superior abilities to the other vampires, but he didn't seem to want to admit it. They were coming upon a flat area of woods with a wide swath of open ground going out into the horizon. That in itself was unusual, much more so was the thought of anything spending much time here. It was far too exposed to be safe.

"There's a group of them," Dean said.

Well, that would explain it. Groups, except theirs, had a tendency to be more careless because they thought they were stronger. Dean always said they didn't need to get into unnecessary fights. Meg questioned his definition of "necessary."

"I'm getting more than a dozen," Benny said as they got closer.

"Twenty-seven," Dean clarified. "Not exactly fair odds."

"What are you talking about?" Benny said with a sarcastic grin. "It's just a few monsters, and they don't have a demon."

"Thanks," Meg said, not sure whether it was meant to be a compliment. She did want to take these monsters if only because she was bored and they were arrogant.

"Then maybe it's not fair to them," Dean said, also smiling.

Meg let her hopes rise. A fight. A real fight. Wasn't that the point of Purgatory anyway?

"What could bring that many together?" Lenore asked with a look of scrutiny in her eyes.

"Groups only unite for a common purpose," Benny said. "Usually to kill someone."

"Unless they're Leviathan," Dean said. "But they aren't. Who do you think they're after?"

"Do we have to guess?"

Dean looked out across the open ground and seemed to come to a decision. "Okay," he said. "Meg, can you still zap in and out?"

Meg was surprised to hear her own name first. "Yeah, why?"

"Once we get close, I want you to use that. They won't be expecting it. Emma, you're the strongest, so do your best to kill on contact. Don't anybody let the group out of your sight. If we sense anything new, we won't be able to let you know if we can't see you. The best way to take a group like this is to hit fast and don't give them the chance to fight back. We've got a few seconds for that first rush, so use them."

"And on the off chance they don't want to kill us?" Emma asked.

"They do. I recognize one of them."

"An old friend?" Meg asked with a smirk.

"Yeah, and we didn't exactly part on good terms if you know what I mean. Let's go. They're gonna smell us coming, so do your best to stay down wind."

Dean took off first, sticking to the edges of the forest on the west side of the open space. The group spread out through the trees, keeping each other in sight, but maintaining enough distance that the enemy might not be able to tell how few of them there really were.

Meg wasn't at all surprised that they were following Dean's orders so seamlessly. He had been in more fights than any of them, probably hunting since he was big enough to hold a gun. It was almost funny that a human had killed far more than any of the monsters in Purgatory. He'd even killed more than Meg herself. She would have thought that becoming a vampire would turn Dean into a mindless animal, but it almost seemed to make him more careful. He killed less than he did before.

It was a long way through the woods. It would have been easier to move through the open area, but not remotely safe. Meg, could have "zapped out", as Dean said, but she didn't want to show up to the party too early. She didn't really know what would happen to her if someone tried to kill her. She didn't have a physical body, but her true form was weak. Considering that everything here was in soul form, they might be able to do damage.

So, she played human for the moment. Many of the monsters they encountered might not even know what it meant when they smelled sulfur. She had used that to her advantage before. Not letting them see the things she could do, saving her big tricks for later. She also had trouble focusing on more than two or three at once. She could keep a couple of attackers at bay telekinetically, but she couldn't maintain a hold on more than that.

Looking to her right, Meg could see the other four running in formation. Dean was furthest ahead, then Benny to his left, followed by Lenore and Emma, and finally Meg herself. They all moved deftly through the dense woods. It was impossible to be entirely soundless, but they did their best, stepping over branches and fallen logs, letting their feet land on moss and ferns, ducking under low hanging boughs.

The open space to the east of them came to an end in a sort of cul-de-sac where all the monsters were gathered. Their leader seemed to be a vampire male who stood roughly at the center of the group. There were bloodstains on his clothes, and he carried a long blade with a jagged edge. The rest of the cohort were no nicer looking. Meg began to realize that she had teamed up with probably the least monstrous people in this whole place. At least, the only ones who hadn't been killed off already.

As they came upon their enemies, Dean rushed at the leader first. It made sense to try to take him out quickly, but he was surrounded by his followers. For all Dean's talk, he wasn't actually that careful. But he had said something about knowing someone here. Maybe the leader was the one he meant.

Soon enough, Meg had her hands too full to keep constant tabs on everyone. She watched Emma though, because no one else seemed to. Of the five of them, the vampires definitely had their own clique. Which was fine. Meg preferred not to have to care about more than one person at once.

Teaming up with Emma made things a little easier on Meg as well. She could pop in and out to gain the element of surprise while Emma kept other monsters occupied. They never let themselves get surrounded.

When a vampire took a running jump at Emma while she was busy fighting off a shapeshifter, Meg appeared in front of him with her spear pointed out. He landed on the head, burying the stone blade deep in his chest. As he hit, Meg stepped to the side so he wouldn't knock her over. He hit the ground with blood gushing out of him. He wasn't dead, of course, but Meg quickly yanked out her spear and brought it back down on his neck.

Just as she did so, a werewolf ran at her from behind. Meg flung him against a cottonwood tree, impaling him on a broken branch.

By that time, Emma had dealt with her shapeshifter and encountered a couple more vampires. They both came at her at once, so fast that Meg barely had time to react. One more second and the would have torn Emma to shreds with their bare hands by the way they were looking at her. Meg's hand twitched and they jerked backward with more force than even she expected.

"I had it under control," Emma said as they approached the defenseless enemies.

"Less talk, more killing," Meg replied, pulling back her spear and beheading one of the vampires.

Emma took care of the other, and they turned around to see more coming. There wasn't time for thinking or questioning anything. Maybe Emma's pride was hurt, but she was still alive, and Meg counted that a success.

The next wave was more vampires, and Meg adjusted her grip on the spear in anticipation. But before they reached the two girls, everything suddenly stopped. A booming voice echoed across the clearing, bouncing from tree to tree. It was the same voice Dean had used to stop Meg and Emma killing Benny and Lenore. Every single vampire stood still, including Benny and Lenore. It seemed that all the other monsters had been killed by this point. There were about fifteen enemy vampires still alive. including their leader, who was now on his knees with Dean's knife at his throat.

Meg had no idea what was going on, but she could tell the vampires were even more confused. Why weren't they still fighting? There were more of them, and who cared about one vampire enough to stop killing? There was something about the way Dean talked to them. He had some kind of control over other vampires, and even a bit of an impact on other creatures because Meg could feel the difference in his tone. He didn't seem to realize what he was doing, or else he didn't care.

"You can leave," Dean said to the other vampires in the same voice. "All of you. Get out of here and don't come back. Anybody who stays ends up like Gordon here."

Meg realized the connection now. Gordon. The one who tortured Lenore. Dean had stopped him from killing her. He'd been a hunter and then been turned. Meg wondered if Dean had killed him too.

One by one, the other vampires dissipated. Somehow, they knew Dean would be true to his word. That he'd kill every single one of them if they stayed, and it wasn't worth it. Soon it was only the five teammates and the unfortunate Gordon. He seethed, teeth out and covered in blood. Meg saw the stain on Dean's shoulder and realized where it came from.

"You're no better than me," Gordon spat, flinching as Dean's blade dug into his skin.

"Probably not," Dean said, almost disinterestedly. "But I don't think there's room for both of us here. Just consider it payback for everything you did to Sam. And, you know, biting me. That wasn't cool."

Gordon let out a choking, growling noise. "Worst monster is one that thinks it's a hero."

"Yeah," Dean said. "You're right."

Meg could tell that Dean was about to swing his knife back and relieve Gordon of his head when Lenore stepped toward them with her own knife pointed at Gordon.

"Wait," she said. She didn't look at Dean at all as she spoke to him. "I know he hurt your brother. But he killed my family." Lenore seemed to struggle to maintain composure. "Sam is alive and well somewhere, but my nest was destroyed, and all of them are gone. So if it's all the same to you—let me."

Dean almost seemed reluctant, but eventually, he gave in, and stepped away from Gordon to give Lenore a clean shot.

Meg wasn't sure what to make of any of this. For one thing, Lenore seemed the least likely of any of them to _want _to kill anything. She had tried to kill Meg the day they met, but that was probably more out of self preservation.

Lenore moved closer to Gordon and put the point of her knife at Gordon's throat. "I wish I could make this slow, like you deserve," she said. "But I don't have the stomach for that like you. Whatever happens to you after this, I hope you go on in eternal agony."

Gordon snarled at her, but Lenore had tears in her eyes. She turned the knife parallel to Gordon's collar bone and with one hearty shove, severed his head. It fell to her feet, soaking her shoes with blood.

Then everything was quiet. No one spoke or ever seemed to breathe. Lenore's gaze was still fixed at the point where Gordon's face had been. Her knife dangled from her hand, dripping onto the soft covering of leaves and pine straw on the ground.

Benny was the first to do anything. He came up behind Lenore and took the knife out of her hand. He wiped the blade clean on his sleeve and then handed it back to her.

After that, the three vampires started walking back through the open space between the woods. For a moment, Meg and Emma stood staring at the lifeless body of Gordon. Neither of them really knew what had just happened, but there wasn't much the could do to figure it out, so they too followed the vampires away from the bodies and into the cold sunlight.

* * *

**Updating early because I'm tired and I don't want to stay up until midnight. On a happy note, got a job today. Woohoo!**


	11. The Long Game

**Chapter Ten "The Long Game"**

Cas didn't get much better in the days to come. Sam watched him carefully, always taking note of his reactions and how engaged he really seemed to be in whatever was going on. It turned out, not much. Cas would zone out for twenty minutes at a time. When Sam would ask him what he thought of whatever he'd been discussing with Charlie, Cas would stare at Sam as if he had just noticed he wasn't alone.

Charlie didn't seem to have any ideas either. She knew about computers, and a little about monsters, but angels were out of her range of expertise. That said, she did try to help. She dug out books on angels and searched them for mentions of grace and what happened when it began to fade. Her findings were mostly inconclusive. Sam had a feeling they would be. It was times like these that Sam really noticed Kevin's absence. He still had the nightmares of when Gadreel killed the prophet, but most of the time, he turned into Dean now. Sam wasn't sure what that meant. Maybe that it was his fault Dean died, his fault they were in the mess in which they found themselves. He never could seem to do anything right.

Sam pushed these thoughts aside the way Dean always taught him to. He ignored his feelings and focused on the job. The vampires kept coming, and it was all Sam could do to hunt down his share and pass on other cases to Jody and whoever her contacts were. There were too many of them. Sam was beginning to hear reports of hunters getting killed more often. This had to stop, but Sam didn't know how. He didn't know anything. It all seemed so hopeless.

And then Jody showed up one evening looking completely exhausted and disheveled. She didn't say much until Sam brought her a cup of coffee and they sat down at one of the less cluttered library tables. Charlie sat nearby with her research spread around her while Cas stood in the doorway, not seeming to absorb anything that was going on.

"What happened?" Sam asked after Jody had taken a few tentative sips of coffee.

She shook her head. "Things are getting worse," she said in a husky voice. "I was with a couple other hunters going after that nest in Utah. They knew we were coming. They were ready for us. I barely made it out alive. The others weren't so lucky. Annie's gone into hiding..." Jody trailed off as if unable to continue.

All of Sam's fears were being confirmed. They didn't have the strength to fight this war. Not on their own, anyway, but who would help them? Gadreel was busy rebuilding Heaven, and Crowley's help would cost too much. All they had was each other, and that wasn't enough.

"We can't keep going on like this," Jody finally said. Her hands were shaking as she set the coffee mug down on the table. "Sooner or later, we'll all be wiped out."

Sam nodded. "We need help," he said.

"That's just the problem. We don't know anyone strong enough to help us."

"Dean might."

Sam didn't ever realize the words had formed in his mind before they were coming out of his mouth. Jody and Charlie looked at him in shock, unable to respond to such an outlandish suggestion.

"No." Cas' deep voice resonated throughout the room.

Sam turned to see him staring right at him with a frenzied expression.

"What if—"

"No," Cas repeated. "We can't try to bring him back. He won't come."

"But if we tell him what's going on, what's at stake."

"You think I haven't thought of it a hundred times? There is nothing that could persuade him to live as one of the monsters he hates."

"Even if it meant saving all of us? Me and you? You don't think he'd do it for us?"

"Perhaps if he thought you were in mortal peril, but how do you plan to convince him of that? And how do you plan to find him in Purgatory?"

"Benny found me."

"Benny knew his way around, as does Dean. You do not."

"I'll find him, Cas. Believe me."

"If you survive. You know, Dean would never forgive me if I let you do this."

"Who said anything about you letting me?"

"You do need to get _into _Purgatory don't you? That's not so easy for a human. There are fewer reapers willing to trade favors."

"What about the angels?"

"This is where I become complicit in your plan."

"Cas, we're losing here. We're all gonna die eventually if we don't do something. Dean should know what's going on. He should know that he could stop it."

"He is only one man."

"You and I both know that's never stopped him before. And what if Benny's there too? That's two vampires on our side."

"Sam..." Cas suddenly looked as if he could collapse from sadness. "I want him back as much as you do. That doesn't mean it's going to happen."

"We should at least try, Cas. It can't end up worse than what we've got now."

Cas seemed to zone out for a moment before looking at Sam again with that trademark piercing gaze. "Yes," he said. "We must try."

**~oOo~**

Dean wasn't expecting the confusion. Well, he'd been confused since he landed back in Purgatory, but he had a goal, a mission. Now, he had no idea what the hell he was doing. Everyone looked to him like he was some kind of leader, but he never meant it to be that way. He just wanted to find Benny. So bad that was all he could think about until it actually happened. Now he had no mission. His life had become the eerie drudgery of kill or be killed, sleep an hour, wake up screaming from the nightmares that never cease.

Repeat.

And Dean wasn't sure if anyone noticed. They had other things to think about. Like staying alive. Sooner or later, things had to change. The five of them couldn't keep fighting forever like this. Because they weren't monsters. They had all the qualifications, but they weren't evil. Dean looked around himself and he saw friends. He saw family. Monsters didn't have family, did they? There was no hope, no goodness, no love in a monster. Or was there? Dean didn't know anymore. Part of him didn't want to. He had become the thing he hunted, the thing he hated—but he felt somehow removed from himself. He was a vampire with above average supernatural abilities. But a piece of him was missing. A piece of him was far away across the dimensions, beyond the bounds of life and death.

It took concentration, but Dean remained focused on the moment. He ignored that little, distant part of himself. He traveled through the endless forests of Purgatory with his friends who followed without question. And finally, Dean understood the punishment of this place. It wasn't the horror or the pain. It was meaninglessness. Without someone to search for, someone to save, the need to _get out_, Dean's existence meant nothing. He couldn't die when he was already dead, but he wished he could. In rare moments, he felt a surge of his old self when he saved one of his companions from an attack. He even felt that growing paternal twinge if it was Emma.

It was slow. Everything was slow here. A day stretched on for a week and a month passed by in the night. Time meant nothing. Progress of any kind was stilted and seemingly random. Dean wished he could sleep. Really sleep like he did when he was human, when he didn't dream of killing everyone he loved. But it only got worse. Benny tried to ask what was wrong, but Dean couldn't tell even him. He couldn't tell anyone what he was seeing, what he had done.

To make matters worse, Dean's powers were growing. He kept that to himself as well, but he noticed that not only was his strength increasing, but he was becoming more and more persuasive even without meaning to. He even found his mind drifting into some higher plane of consciousness where he could see into the thoughts of those around him. The vampire thoughts anyway. Meg's mind was a black, cloudy mass; and Emma's was blank to him, like there was no signal. But quite by accident, Dean sometimes heard the thoughts of Benny and Lenore—and he couldn't be sure, but he thought sometimes they heard him too.

One side of Dean wanted to figure out what the hell was going on with his mind, so he could control it. But his much stronger side that wanted to ignore it and pretend it wasn't happening won out.

Benny kept asking if Dean was okay. He was the only one who really tried to make meaningful conversation. Dean appreciated it, but he couldn't seem to respond with anything other than "I'm fine."

Meanwhile, Meg had taken a liking to Emma, and the two would often go on patrols together. Dean wasn't sure how he felt about that, but he had long since stopped trying to pretend Meg wasn't a part of his life. Or Emma, for that matter.

And the worst thing of all, the very worst thing was that Benny and Lenore were _happy_. Dean felt horrible even admitting that to himself, but there were far worse things he'd thought over the past weeks or months or however long it had been. He couldn't help resenting them a little because they weren't supposed to have that. No one here was supposed to get a happily-ever-after. Of course Dean knew none of their lives was a bed of roses, but all things being relative, a couple of dead vampires had no right to be happy.

Maybe Dean was wrong. Maybe he was a monster. He'd been one all along.

**~oOo~**

_A few months ago..._

_The sun wasn't bright enough. Usually, Dean didn't care about that sort of thing, but he needed the sun today. Maybe with all his angel juice, Cas could have pushed back the clouds a little, but he was running on fumes. He thought Dean didn't know, and Dean let him think that. If Cas wanted to talk about his problems, he could be the one to bring it up. Dean was tired of dealing with all that crap. He just wanted to work._

_That was why they were here in the middle of nowhere Virginia. Suspected vampire killings. Sam was wrapping up on a case back at the bunker, so Dean and Cas were on their own. But they were more than enough for a few fangs._

_Dean could feel the blood pumping, heart racing adrenaline coursing through his body. He wasn't nervous. He was excited. He always got this way just before the strike. Something about nearly getting his throat ripped out and coming out on top of a pile of headless corpses gave him a thrill. On another day, he might consider how wrong that was, but not today._

_In the last six months, Dean felt as though he had a new lease on life. When Sam saved him from the Mark of Cain, he threw himself back into hunting nonstop. It helped him sleep. It made him forget._

_Cas watched the vampire nest with a distinctly pessimistic expression. He'd been that way all day. All week, actually. Like something else was on his mind. Dean tried not to think about it. They stood on a small rise above a barren field of weeds and dirt. Across that landscape were the remains of a farm. The house was almost completely leveled save a few support beams and a brick chimney. The barn was better off. Four walls, slightly caving in, but standing. A perfect place for a couple bloodsuckers to hang out._

"_Perhaps we should watch them a while longer," Cas said, still staring at the building like its very existence offended him._

"_Cas, we've been here all night," Dean replied. "I think my legs are starting to cramp."_

_Cas looked back at him. "You should have said something."_

"_Not the point. We've only seen two of them coming or going since dusk. What are we waiting for?"_

"_I don't know. I think... something isn't right."_

"_You don't have spidey senses, Cas."_

"_That's because I'm an angel, not a high school student who was bitten by a radioactive spider."_

"_It's an expression. What's not right? I mean, besides vampires eating people in the area?"_

"_I said I don't know. I was not being rhetorical."_

"_Waiting won't do us any good. We might as well see what's up in there. Whatever it is, I'm sure we can handle it."_

"_If you say so."_

_Cas followed Dean across the field. Dean really wished the sun would shine a little brighter. There was a bit of mist lingering over the ground as if to emphasize Cas' ominous warnings. Dean ignored it. He was used to creepy situations. He was about to go kill some vampires for crying out loud._

_They reached the barn with no trouble, and a look through the cracks told Dean he was right in his assessment of the situation. Three vampires slept in hammocks on the far side of the room. Dean couldn't see everything, so there could be more, but he didn't hear anything. This job was too easy._

_They broke through the doors a little louder than they should have, but it didn't matter if the vampires woke up. There were only three._

_Except that there weren't._

_High above in the rafters—which shouldn't have been able to hold that much weight—dozens of vampires waited. Dean had been in his share of outmatched fights, but this was a lot even for him. When they dropped to the floor, Dean started to rethink Cas' "bad feeling." They were surrounded with no chance of escape. The adrenaline pumped harder, and Dean had the almost irresistible urge to start chopping off heads. But he knew he couldn't win. The vampires weren't attacking, so obviously, this was planned. A trap._

_Beside Dean, Cas was becoming more and more tense every second. Dean wondered absently what it would be like if the angel exploded. Until he remembered he knew what that looked like._

_Deep in the crowd of vampires, Dean saw movement. The others had been completely still, but now, someone was coming forward. When Dean saw who it was, he figured he should have known._

"_How did you like my little trail of breadcrumbs?" the Alpha asked. "I hope it wasn't too difficult for you to find me."_

"_What do you want?" Dean wasn't playing this game._

_The Alpha regarded him with an amused and almost _affectionate_ look. "I believe you owe me something."_

"_What, for killing the monsters that were driving you extinct? You never did say thank you."_

"_No." The Alpha shook his head. "I am not referring to the Leviathans. I'm talking about you."_

_Dean scoffed. "What about me?"_

"_Surely you must remember our first encounter. The time you were my son."_

_Dean could practically feel Cas' bewildered eyes boring into him. "I'm not your son."_

"_No, you managed to reverse the effects of the blood. I must admit, even I was surprised by that. It's so rare that a hunter displays such knowledge."_

"_You've got my pain in the ass grandfather to thank for that."_

"_I'll send him a fruit basket."_

"_Addressed to Hell. Now _what do you want_?"_

_The Alpha looked at Dean as if it should be obvious. "Only what's mine. And this time, I'll make sure there's no reversal. You see, I have big plans for you, Dean. You're going to lead my army in taking back our rightful place in the world."_

"_I'm not doing anything for you."_

"_Not willingly, I'm sure. You're a very stubborn man."_

_The Alpha waved his hand and several vampires rushed at Dean. He barely had time to react, swinging his machete at the nearest one. He felt the sudden jolt as it sunk into flesh and hot blood poured over his hand. But the other vampires had him penned in, and as soon as he pulled his arm back, they grabbed hold of him so that he couldn't move._

Where the hell is Cas?

_The Alpha came up to Dean with a hungry gleam in his eyes. Dean would almost rather be eaten than whatever this monster had planned._

_The Alpha produced a knife the size of a letter opener and slit his own wrist, smiling the whole time. "Even you cannot resist," he said. "It will be better for you to embrace the change."_

_Dean clamped his mouth shut. He wasn't going to make this easy._

Damn it, Cas. Where are you?

_Someone held Dean's head still. Another hand pinched his nose. Maybe he would pass out from lack of oxygen. No. His reflex to breathe would kick in before that. Either way, they'd find a way to turn him._

_This wasn't happening. Not again. Being a vampire was bad enough the first time with Sam running around soulless and all._

_Dean's vision started getting blurry around the edges. He was seeing spots. As if on cue, there was a flash of light and Dean inhaled. As he did, the familiar taste of metal hit his tongue._

* * *

**I didn't really want to write that last scene because I felt like it would be way too much like "The One I'm Fighting For," but a lot of people asked about Dean becoming a vampire, and I thought it fit best here as well as set up some things to come. Hopefully it's satisfying to all the readers who asked for it.  
**

**In other news, my first week back at work has been awesome. :D Hope everyone has a great weekend.  
**


	12. The Beast Below

**Chapter Eleven "The Beast Below"  
**

Sunlight streamed through floor-to-ceiling windows causing a headache-inducing glare off the white walls and furniture in the sterile office building. Sam swirled tepid coffee around in a paper cup and tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair that was too small for him. Next to him, Cas was completely still, staring off at something Sam couldn't determine. Maybe the opposite wall. There was nothing there, but Cas' gaze never wavered. Sam wondered if he were zoning out again.

"Why do the angels meet in an office building?" Sam asked, hoping for at least a flicker of acknowledgment.

"Humans don't come here," Cas said, still fixated on the wall. "It's innocuous. And it gives the angels a space to work on Earth."

"And is there some reason we have to wait so long for a meeting with the boss?"

Cas turned to face Sam. "The gates of Heaven can only open in one place at a time and it takes considerable effort to move them. It would have been a waste of time and energy for Gadreel to move the gates to us, rather than us coming to him. And everyone has to wait. Angels can't just fly to and from Heaven anymore. The trip is more substantial."

Sam stared at Cas, amazed at how many words had just come out of his mouth. "Okay," he said. "Still, after everything you did for him, you'd think he'd put you at the top of the list."

"Considering I requested a meeting last night, I'd say we have a while to wait before we consider ourselves inconvenienced."

Sam was beginning to realize how much he would have hated a normal human existence of waiting in DMV lines and keeping a schedule and things like that. He much preferred doing things in his own time. Or Dean's time, usually.

The thought of his brother brought Sam's focus back to the moment. He was about to ask Gadreel to help him get into Purgatory to rescue his brother. The man who tried to kill Gadreel. But if an angel ever owed a human anything, surely this was it. In spite of all that had gone wrong between them, Sam still held out hope that Gadreel would feel some obligation to _him_ if not to Dean.

The only other option was getting Crowley to send him through the backdoor from Hell, and Sam really did not want to do that.

But it had been all day, and there was still no sign of Gadreel. Charlie had brought them something to eat after seeing Jody off earlier, but that was hours ago. Sam wasn't sure how many cups of angel coffee he'd downed. The funny thing was the angels drank the coffee too. They really seemed to like it. They bustled about in their business suits and tapped away at their computers, and Sam started to wonder what the hell was wrong with the world. But he'd been wondering that for a long time.

It was a considerable shock when the elevator doors across the lobby opened to reveal Gadreel standing there, looking exactly the same as the last time Sam saw him. The other angels looked like a bunch of office workers, but Gadreel still looked like a bartender. He exited the elevator and crossed the lobby, ignoring the stares of other angels as he approached Sam and Cas.

"I must admit, I expected you sooner, Castiel," he said with a faint smile. Inexpressive as he was, Sam could tell he was happy to see Cas. Sam knew Gadreel better than anyone.

"I thought it best to keep my distance," Cas said. "For all concerned."

Gadreel looked as if he were about to argue and then thought better of it. "I am surprised to see you, Sam," he said, switching focus abruptly.

Sam faltered for a moment. "Yeah, I... didn't expect to be here either, honestly."

"Of course if I can be of any help to you, I will gladly do so. Come. We can speak more openly upstairs."

Sam wondered if upstairs meant "upstairs" or "_Up_stairs." As it turned out, Gadreel just meant the top floor of the building where a spacious office had been set up full of computer monitors and very heavily guarded.

"The closet leads back to Heaven," Gadreel explained as they entered.

Sam smirked. "Sounds like _The Chronicles of Narnia_."

Gadreel stopped and stared as Sam as if he'd just spoken Farsi.

"It's a book," Sam said. "Where some kids find another world in a wardrobe—never mind."

"The human imagination is often more correct than it knows," Gadreel said. He moved over to the desk and sat down, motioning for Sam and Cas to do the same. "Castiel mentioned a problem that required addressing. I am at your service."

Sam didn't realize he was nervous until he took that first shaky breath to speak. "Well, it's about Dean," he said. "No—wait. Let me go back. The Alpha vampire is trying to create some kind of empire on Earth. He turned Dean, but he didn't count on Dean preferring Purgatory to life as a monster. The thing is, the Apha didn't stop. He's out there right now turning more and more people, and if we don't stop him... He's gonna wipe us all out."

"And by 'us' you mean?"

"First the hunters. Then he'll have free reign to feed on humanity forever."

Gadreel spread his hands as if to literally give support. "Of course I will do all I can. I do not have the resources that Heaven once boasted, but what I have I will gladly supply."

Now for the tricky part. "I'm grateful," Sam said. "The thing is, I think we need to bring Dean back."

Gadreel's eyes narrowed in that pensive way he sometimes had. Sam remembered it well. "You mean to bring your brother back to life. Again."

"All I need is someone to get me into Purgatory. I can do the rest."

Gadreel had a look on his face as if someone had just died. "I am afraid that will be impossible," he said. "Purgatory is outside our purview. It would be suicide for any angel to attempt entrance even just to deposit you there. I cannot... I will not send my brothers to die like that. Fighting the Alpha is one thing. It falls under the protection of humans, and I will send out my most trusted angels to assess the situation. But as for bringing Dean home... I am afraid you are on your own."

Sam found it impossible to be angry with Gadreel after that speech. He seemed genuinely sorry that he couldn't help, and at the same time, Sam knew he couldn't change Gadreel's mind. Still, he tried one last thing.

"He was the only one to give you a chance," Sam said.

Gadreel nodded. "I know. I hope you are able to get to him. If anyone can, I'm sure you will."

Somehow, Sam knew Gadreel meant it. He didn't hold anything against Dean. He had no thoughts of revenge. It was as if Sam could read Gadreel's mind, but he knew it was just a result of having been possessed for so long. Gadreel probably sensed the same things about Sam.

Through thee whole meeting, Cas hadn't said a word. When they got ready to leave, he said goodbye to Gadreel, and he seemed reluctant to leave. Sam could understand; he'd spent plenty of time without his family too.

**~oOo~**

Charlie sat in the cushy armchair upside-down with her legs draped over the back and her hair brushing the floor. Sometimes, it helped her think. Over the past several weeks she had been working on a million different things at once: studying vampires, researching angels, organizing the chaotic filing system of the Men of Letters. But now, she could only think about one thing: Dean. Could he really come back? Would he? She hardly dared to hope, but she couldn't seem to stop herself.

When she returned from Oz, the first thing Charlie had wanted to to was sit down with Dean and have a beer and talk about everything that had happened since the last time they saw each other. Finding out he was dead had been the biggest shock of her life. Existence of monsters notwithstanding. Because Dean just didn't die. He was so strong, so full of life even in his eminent cynicism.

Charlie blew a stand of hair out of her eyes and rolled to the side so that her legs dangled over one arm of the chair and her neck rested on the opposite one. She felt the foggy exodus of blood rushing from her head back to where it belonged.

So many things could go wrong. Sam might not be able to get into Purgatory. And if he did, he might get killed there, and no one would ever know. Assuming he survived, he still had to convince Dean to come back, and even in her limited exposure, Charlie knew how stubborn Dean could be. But she also knew how much he was willing to do for his brother. He had to listen to Sam. He had to come back. Charlie could get used to the vampire thing if it meant having Dean around. Yeah, it felt like some crappy teen paranormal novel, but she would just have to look past that. He was still Dean. He had to be.

When Sam and Castiel returned late that evening, they were in the thick of some argument, and Charlie's hopes fell. Obviously, the angels hadn't agreed to help Sam get to Purgatory. Sam had made passing mention of another option last night, but Castiel had rejected it outright. It seemed that Sam was revisiting the idea.

"Dealing with him never ends well," Castiel was saying loudly as they entered the library.

"Only if you double cross him," Sam shot back.

Castiel got a strange look in his eyes, that Charlie would guess was remorse. Which didn't make sense, but she didn't have time to sort it all out because she was trying to follow the conversation.

"The price is always too high, Sam," Castiel went on, speaking more softly.

"Not if he wants the same thing we do. He's not an idiot, Cas. He knows the vampires are bad for business, just like when he helped us with the Leviathans. And he's kind of like you."

Castiel's eyes widened. "_What?_"

"He likes Dean when he's not supposed to. I don't know why. I don't wanna know why, but he's got a soft spot. I can use that."

Castiel shook his head. "He'll use this against you. He knows he can demand just about anything to repay this favor."

"Not if I make it seem like _I'm_ doing _him_ a favor."

"He's not going to be fooled."

"I'm not talking about fooling him. I won't lie. I'll just focus on how bringing Dean back will help him."

"You don't think a master manipulator will see through that?"

"It's worth a try."

"I'm not so sure of that."

Charlie got up from her chair and crossed the room. "Can I ask a question?" she said.

"Sure," Sam replied.

"Who the hell are you talking about?"

"Crowley," Castiel said darkly. "The King of Hell."

Charlie stared at Sam with a new appreciation of just how batshit insane he was.

**~oOo~**

Cas refused to go with Sam to summon Crowley. He also insisted that Sam no do it in the bunker. So, while Sam was traipsing through the middle of nowhere to perform the summoning ritual, Cas was driving to Maine. That showed some confidence in the plan at least. Charlie wanted to go along too, but Cas pointed out that they needed her to keep working. She didn't seem very happy about it, but she agreed to stay behind. She probably didn't want to add to the tension between Sam and Cas.

It didn't matter. Once Sam brought Dean back, Cas couldn't complain. This had to work. It was the first job Sam had felt this invested in since forever. Fighting vampires these last few months, he'd been on autopilot. But laying out the ingredients for the spell, Sam felt alive again. His heart was pounding in his ears and his palms were sweaty, but he was excited too.

Crowley took his time, and Sam expected no less. Still, the King of Hell couldn't resist an invitation to meet with a Winchester for too long. He had tied his fate together with theirs a long time ago, and there would be no extricating himself. Perhaps he resented that, but he also seemed to enjoy it.

When he finally arrived, he looked mildly annoyed. His expression changed when he saw Sam. "Almost didn't recognize you, Moose," he said with a smirk. "You've really let yourself go."

It had been so gradual for Sam that he barely noticed, but his appearance must have been a stark contrast to the way he used to look. His hair and beard had grown longer, and he was thinner.

"Crowley," Sam said, careful to keep any emotion from his voice. "You've been quiet lately."

"I have other things to do than keep tabs on you. Heard about Dean though. Shame, really. I expected a visit from you then."

"He wouldn't have come back."

Crowley inclined his head to the side in concession. "True. He did always hate what he was when he was human. But you didn't call me to reminisce."

"No," Sam agreed. "I called you because we can help each other."

"What? With your vampire problem."

"The more humans get turned, the fewer souls you get when they die. And I doubt if you want your supply of meatsuits dwindling to whatever livestock the vampires need to survive."

"Ah, common enemy argument. I suppose I can give you that. But the vampires have always tried to enslave humanity, and they have always failed. They are too limited. They need humans to survive, but humans like to kill them. That's why they spend so much time hiding in the dark."

"They're not hiding anymore. The hunters are overwhelmed. Soon, there won't be any of us left to fight. What will you do then?"

"What is your solution then?"

"The Alpha turned Dean. He must have had a plan. But Dean never follows the plan."

"Annoying habit of his. But he's in Purgatory, and as you said, he won't come back."

"He will if I tell him what's happening. That everyone is gonna die without him."

"That _you_ are going to die without him. You know he doesn't really care about the rest of the world. Not enough to live again."

Sam nodded. "All you have to do is get me into Hell. I can find my way from there."

"And what do I get out of this?"

"We fight the vampires, kill the Alpha, you don't have to get your hands dirty."

"Just one thing."

"What?"

"You and your brother have this irritating tendency to try to kill me when I am no longer useful to you."

"Can you blame us?"

Crowley looked offended. "After all I've done for you? No, here's the deal. I will take you to Hell, ensure you safe passage, even join in the fight if I have to, but you must swear to me that you and your brother will never again make any attempt on my life. Those are my terms. Break the deal, Dean goes back to being dead."

Sam stared at Crowley weighing the consequences of agreeing. Crowley was a nuisance, but he had always been the lesser of all the evils in the world. And he was willing to fight with the hunters on this. Sam would probably neglect to mention that part to Cas. He wouldn't like the idea of working with Crowley on a regular basis.

Sam had come this far. He wasn't going to back out. He knew going in that he would agree to whatever terms Crowley set forth. This wasn't as bad as it could have been.

"I suppose you'll have to write up a contract?" Sam asked.

Crowley smiled. "In anticipation of this event, I already have," he said. "Just a few revisions regarding the vampires, and you've got yourself a first class ticket to Hell."

**~oOo~**

Castiel did not enjoy driving. It was slow and boring and made even more obnoxious by other drivers who didn't seem to know what they were doing. Which was sad because he had only been driving regularly for a little over a year. He had already made the trip from Kansas to Maine once. He knew his way. The monotony of it all left far too much time to think.

Dean was coming back. Maybe. If anyone could convince him, it was Sam. It was the one thing Castiel was certain could never happen. And he took comfort in that thought. Yes, Dean was gone, and he felt that absence as acutely as Sam did. But Castiel never again wanted to look into the eyes of the man he murdered. To see his best friend who he had failed so terribly. It was almost too horrible to imagine.

But here he was, driving down the highway toward the certain reunion that he did not want to have. A few miles back, Sam had sent a text message informing Castiel that Crowley had agreed. By the time Castiel reached the site of the portal's opening, Sam and Dean might already be there. They would have to dig up Dean's body of course which was another thing Castiel wasn't looking forward to. The whole thing just seemed wrong.

Part of it was undoubtedly the fact that Castiel knew he didn't deserve to have his friend back. There was more to it, though. It was the image of Dean's green eyes going dark, of the way he fell to the concrete floor. Castiel could not separate the idea of Dean from his last memories of him. Seeing him again would only bring it back worse. Castiel would never be free of that scene playing out in his head.

Still, he drove on. Because he had made promises. He had to watch out for Sam. And if Dean did refuse to come back, he had to be there for Sam when he came home alone. If Dean did come back, Castiel knew what he would have to do. He would make Dean believe that he was happy, that everything was okay. He would do whatever it took to _keep_ Dean on this Earth. He knew what kind of sacrifice that might require of him. He had known all the way back when he gave Dean his blood. Vampires had to feed, and once they got a taste of something, they never forgot it. Dean would hate himself, but that was nothing new. Castiel would give his blood until he had no more to give because Dean would need it.

* * *

**I know, I'm late again. :P I ended up having some unexpected things happen yesterday, so I didn't finish the chapter until now. I'm going to try to write some more this weekend and get ahead on things, so I won't have to be in a rush.**


	13. The Man Who Can Never Die

**Chapter Twelve "The Man Who Can Never Die"  
**

There was the faintest bit of daylight creeping through the forest. Dean stood at the crest of a hill, watching and listening to the valley below. He had always loved this part of the day, just before things began to happen. The anticipation awoke something like excitement in him. A thick mist was hovering over the trees, but that wasn't a problem. Dean had started to rely more on his sense of hearing and smell than sight. Sometimes, he wasn't sure if he were actually hearing movement in the distance or feeling the vibrations of strange feet in the undergrowth.

He smelled Benny long before he heard him. This valley was an unknown place to all of them, even Lenore who had come nearly this far before. It was surrounded on two sides by high mountains and opened up at the far end to what looked like a large body of water, but it was too far away to tell. Dean could swear he smelled salt, but no one could believe there was actually an ocean in Purgatory.

They had begun their scouting before it was light. Venturing into this place would be a risk under any circumstances, but if there were anyone looking for them, it would be a perfect trap. It had been days since they had seen another creature, and Meg was getting restless about not killing anything, but they still had to be careful.

Everyone had agreed to meet back on the hill at dawn, and Dean was the first one to arrive. Benny came second. Dean had his suspicions that they wouldn't have needed to send anyone but himself because his senses were so strong, but he didn't want to say so. He didn't want to admit that he had some kind of enhanced powers even though each of them had made some passing comments about it by this point. Dean had begun to dread the times he spent alone with his old friend. Inevitably, Dean would have to face a line of questioning he didn't have the answers to.

Dean could hear every crunch of the leaves under Benny's feet as he ascended the hill. He could see the stocky form moving through the trees more clearly than he should have. He didn't rely on his sight, but it was stronger. Even in this monotone world, Dean could see every vein in every leaf before they were crushed under Benny's feet.

It took all of a minute for Benny to reach the crest of the hill. Dean had never really noticed before how strong and fast his friend was, and he only noticed now because he was stronger. Because the time it took Dean to get from the valley to the peak was negligible. If he were honest, he would admit to himself that when he was alone, he did test his limits. He hadn't reached them yet.

"Don't like the looks of it," Benny said as he reached Dean.

"What are you talking about?" Dean scoffed. "There's nothing there."

"Exactly. Thousands of years of monsters dying and coming here, and this whole valley is abandoned. Why?"

"What does it matter?"

"You think there might be a reason no one wants to come here? Something worse than we've faced before?"

Dean still didn't think much of Benny's assessment. He really didn't know why he wasn't listening. He didn't even register that's what was happening. "There's nothing out there I haven't seen," he said. It was probably true.

Benny gave Dean a skeptical look. "There are other ways to go."

"You really think there's anything in there we can't handle?"

"You're the one whose being so careful. Why press our luck?"

"Because nothing can kill me." Dean didn't realize he was saying those words until they were out of his mouth, hanging in the air, expressing what they had both already feared.

Benny didn't say anything at first. He didn't look at Dean, but kept his gaze focused on the valley laid out before them.

For a moment Dean was certain it hadn't happened, that he hadn't said the words he never dared to think. There was no way he could explain this. Not without confessing the worst thing he had ever done, and he couldn't do that.

"I'm not interested in testing that theory," Benny finally said. "Maybe you are something else. What does it matter? Risking all our lives out of curiosity is just stupid."

It was then Dean realized that Benny didn't want to talk about it either. Whatever the Alpha (and Cas' blood) had done to Dean, neither of them cared to investigate.

"You sure it doesn't matter?" Dean asked, not really wanting an answer.

"What matters is that the Alpha's plan didn't succeed. Whatever he wanted you for, it's never gonna happen. You beat him in the end."

There was something strange in Benny's voice, something that reminded Dean of a familiar sort of conversation, but he wasn't sure what it was. He just got the strangest sense of déjà vu about it.

"I still think we should see what's out there," Dean said, focusing back on the original point of the conversation. "It could be no one's ever been here before."

Benny didn't look convinced. "If you go, I'll follow you, but I don't think it's a good idea."

"Since when are any of my ideas good?"

"Man's got a point."

Dean laughed, but it was weak. He wouldn't admit it, but he too had an odd feeling about this place. The only difference for him was that he wanted to know what the hell was going on there.

**~oOo~**

Sam had packed for everything. In all his years living out of a backpack, he could cram a lot into that small space. He hand weapons, warm clothing, energy bars, water bottles, and a fold up shovel. He also brought along a compass in his pocket. He wasn't sure if north were a thing in Purgatory, but it was worth a try. He thought about cutting his hair and shaving, but then he figured the rougher he looked, the less likely some monsters would be to realize that he was human.

As he waited for Crowley to arrive at their assigned meeting place, Sam took inventory of the many bite-marks on his skin. There would be no way to hide them all since they covered his hands and neck in addition to the rest of his body. Sometimes he felt as if he had become one giant scar. Everything that had happened in the last several months—years if he were being honest—had left its indelible mark on Sam.

Saving Dean would make it all worth it though. Bringing back the one person who could save the world would be the heroic act Sam always wished he could do. But it was selfish too. He wanted his brother back. Period. Never mind saving the world. Cas had to know that, and though he never said, Sam knew that was one reason he argued against bringing Dean back. Because Sam had ulterior motives, and based on past experiences, that wouldn't end well.

It was too late to back out now. Sam had struck his deal with Crowley, signed on the dotted line, kissed the enemy—quite literally to Sam's great distaste. There was no room for second thoughts. Not that Sam would seriously consider changing his mind anyway. He would always try to save Dean in the end. That was as much a fact of who he was as Dean's incurable need to save Sam and everyone else he ever met.

Except Sam never seemed to succeed. He would this time. He had to.

Crowley arrived at the last second before he was supposed to arrive. He certainly knew how to make an entrance.

"All ready for your camping trip?" he asked with a too-bright tone in his voice.

"If you try to double cross me—"

Crowley put his hand over his heart. "I never! A deal is a deal. You keep your end, I keep mine. Simple as that. Breaking deals is bad business."

"Fine," Sam said. "Let's just get this over with."

"What, you don't want the grand tour?" Crowley shrugged. "Suit yourself. This might pinch a bit."

Crowley put his hand on Sam's arm, and suddenly, it was as if Sam's insides were being compressed as his skin closed in around him with a tingling feeling. He couldn't breathe. There was nothing to see, nothing to feel, only the horrible pressure that seemed to be coming from everywhere.

As suddenly as it began, it was over. Sam found himself standing in a long dark corridor made of large stones. He remembered this place well enough.

"I take it you know your way from here," Crowley said. "And you still won't tell me where the door is?"

Sam shook his head. "The last thing we need is demons attacking Purgatory."

"I don't see how it would affect you."

"Best not to tempt fate."

"Fine." Crowley snapped his fingers and was gone.

Sam looked around to get his bearings. He needed to go up this corridor and to the right if he remembered correctly. It seemed much darker than the last time he was here and he wondered if Crowley had the mood set specifically for him. He wouldn't be surprised.

The whole idea of wandering around freely in Hell still felt extremely wrong to Sam. He knew he'd done it before, but this was something he would never get used to. He did his best to block out the screams and cries of the souls trapped in the cells as he passed them. Still, each pitiful moan tore at his heart, and he wished he could pull down the walls with his bare hands and set everyone free. He knew some of them probably deserved to be here, but seeing and hearing them like this, he didn't think of that.

There was nothing he could do of course. He might be able to carry one soul out with him, but then how would he get Dean out of Purgatory? It seemed arbitrary, but that was the mission, and Sam was actually happy to keep it that way. Much as he wanted to help, it would be so inconvenient, and he had the excuse of a more important task ahead.

The walk through the dungeons seemed longer, and Sam began to feel like Dante wandering the circles of Hell for what seemed like forever. But Dante had the benefit of going on to Purgatory and then Heaven. There would be no Heaven at the end of this trip for Sam.

After what seemed like days in darkness, Sam came to the familiar corner where he knew the backdoor into Purgatory would be. He made sure there was no one, human or demon, watching as he walked into the blackness and suddenly found himself stumbling out into the half lighted woods of Purgatory.

The portal whirled and crackled behind him, and Sam took several steps away from it, wanting to distance himself from Hell as best he could. He remembered that the portal back to Earth was to the left from where he was standing. He consulted his compass. That was north, if there was such thing as magnetic polarity here. Knowing Dean, he would keep moving, and since the atmosphere seemed pretty hostile near the portal, Sam's first thought was to go the opposite direction. He didn't know what made him decide that, but he set off south almost immediately.

Sam made sure to keep a good knife handy as he walked. This was going to be a long trip.

**~oOo~**

With no way of knowing when Sam would be back, Castiel had prepared for all circumstances. He didn't need food and sleep as an angel, but he knew that waiting in the forest for maybe days on end could get rather dull. So, he packed some books and the necessary items to make coffee over a campfire.

His cellphone didn't work out there, so he had no way of keeping in touch with Charlie to check on her progress. Castiel imagined her back in the bunker working away with barely any rest. She was a lot like Dean in some ways. Once she got her mind set on something, she never let it go. Sam could be that way too, but not quite as obviously. Sometimes, Castiel wished he had that kind of determination. He seemed to let far too many things go, made far too many compromises. He wasn't really sure what he was fighting for anymore, except that it all centered around Dean.

Maybe that was it. Castiel didn't have anything else—and truthfully, he didn't care about anything else. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that saving innocent people was a good thing, but it didn't motivate him like the thought of doing something for Dean. Whether that be looking after his brother all these months or bringing the hunter-turned-vampire back to life.

Castiel was certain that Dean would be surprised to know how often he thought about this sort of thing. But then, Dean never seemed to do a lot of analytical thinking. He was more gut instincts and reactions, which seemed to work for him. But Castiel's gut instincts were always wrong or else he didn't understand them, so he had to rely on a more cognitive process. But Castiel was hyper-aware—and always had been—that his friendship with Dean was simultaneously the best thing that had ever happened to him and the worst thing. Perhaps Dean did know that on some level. Perhaps he felt the same way.

Either way, they were somehow tied together, now more than ever. Dragging Dean out of Hell seemed like nothing compared to letting him drink Castiel's blood. It was one of those unwritten rules that Castiel wouldn't have broken for anyone but Dean. It surprised him just how easy it was to make that compromise. How easy it had been and would be for Castiel to throw away everything else he pretended to believe in if it meant keeping Dean safe and happy.

Altogether, Castiel didn't get much reading done. He sat lost in thought for days, sometimes making coffee or talking to passing wildlife. The animals just looked at him like he was crazy, but he got that from humans too, so it was nothing new.

During the night, strange noises would keep Castiel on the lookout, hoping without realizing it that the wind in the trees or the howl of a wolf in the distance was really Sam and Dean coming back.

* * *

**I am a really horrible person with horrible time management skills. I kept letting myself get distracted instead of writing this chapter. Technically, it's still Friday for me, but I kind of had to rush through some things, so I don't think this chapter is as good as usual, and I'm sorry about that. I can promise some action in the next one though, so hopefully that will make you forget about this little blip of badness.**


	14. Bigger on the Inside

**Chapter Thirteen "Bigger on the Inside"**

One thing Sam didn't consider upon setting off for Purgatory was the fact that his nerves were already frayed to a dangerous degree. Even since Charlie's return, he hadn't slept particularly well or regained his old strength. He was tired and weak, and now he was spending his nights waking at the slightest noise—or imagined noise—living his days in a frenzied state of hyper-vigilance.

Sam was reminded of the time he spent hallucinating, but this time, he knew he wasn't crazy. Just unhinged, desperate, a little overconfident. Just like Dean most of the time. He embraced it. He couldn't bring his brother back if he weren't willing to think like the older Winchester for a while. Maybe that was what he should have been doing all along.

Part of Sam really thought that he would search for a day or two, and find Dean just like that. But as he walked cautiously beneath he colorless trees, wishing his footsteps didn't make such an obvious crunching noise, he realized that he could be down here a long time. His previous visit to Purgatory was short, and he tried not to think about the time Dean spent a year there, but he couldn't help it now. Somehow, Dean had survived back then, and Sam would too. That was the plan anyway.

Of course, the innumerable monster inhabitants of this netherworld had other ideas. As much as he tried to avoid detection, Sam really couldn't cover up his smell. And he hadn't thought about the fact that every vampire he killed would be somewhere close by, and they would know his scent. Even that was of little consequence to Sam, though. He'd faced them before; he could do it again.

The first challenge came a few days into Sam's trip. He had the distinct disadvantage of being a normal human with no special powers, but he made up for it by being the defender in any skirmish. The defense always had the upper hand because they had more to fight for. Sam had everything to fight for.

But that didn't make it easy. A couple of vampires had caught Sam's scent, and began stalking him. That realization was worse than the actual fight because he didn't know how long they had been following him. Once he became aware of their presence, Sam was confident enough he could fight them off. He'd been doing just that for months now.

The vampires took their time making a move. It seemed that they knew Sam was not to be underestimated, and probably thought to study him and take the best opening. Sam didn't care. He knew if he started running, he'd only wear himself out and make it easier for them to kill him, but if he kept walking, he would keep up his pace, and give nothing away to his enemies.

Eventually, the vampires grew impatient. Sam was hearing more twigs snapping and leaves crackling in the forest behind him. He could feel the adrenaline that had been building all morning coming to its peak.

_Come on,_ he thought. _Let's do this._

As if reading his thoughts, a male vampire stepped out of the trees ahead. Sam heard the other behind him, but he kept his eyes on the first. He couldn't overpower them, but he could fight better. The male scrutinized Sam for a moment, not saying anything or even appearing to breathe. He must have seen the scars, the steely look in Sam's eyes.

The vampire to the rear attacked first. Sam heard it coming, but he didn't take his eyes of the first. He felt something slam into him, and he shifted his weight, widening his stance. The female behind him had a death grip on his backpack. Sam deftly slipped his arms out of the straps and let it fall back, throwing her off balance. He gripped his knife more tightly and threw a kick at her legs, knocking her to the ground.

In that time, the male vampire had rushed at Sam. Without turning, Sam switched the knife to his left hand and swung it back. He felt the blade come in contact with flesh, and hot blood poured over his hand. He turned his body and threw his weight into the knife, pushing it painfully through the vampire's neck.

The head fell with a _thud_, and the female screeched as she got to her feet. Same barely stepped aside in time to avoid her inhuman leap. She landed on her feet near the body of her friend, fangs bared, eager for blood.

Sam returned the sticky, slippery knife to his right hand and held it in front of him. He waited for her to strike with his knees bent, ready to dodge. She did not disappoint. In her fury, she neglected any pretense at strategy. Sam found it depressingly easy to sidestep her and being the knife down on her exposed throat. Her body dropped at his feet as her blood further stained the ground.

Sam picked up his backpack and wiped the blood from his hands and weapon.

Soon, the encounter became a blip on the radar. In the days to come, Sam fought off more attacks until he had forgotten how many monsters he killed. If it could be called killing when they were already dead. He began to understand what Dean meant when he first came back. It was 360 combat, and it was pure.

Maybe because Sam was already well on his way to insanity, he didn't mind it so much.

**~oOo~**

A day into the valley, and Dean was seriously rethinking this whole plan. Benny had been right when he said it was too quiet. There wasn't a single sentient thing within except for the group themselves. If possible, this place was darker than the rest of Purgatory. The trees grew closer together, and the air was thick with moisture and a musty smell.

Dean told himself it was nothing. Just humidity from the water on the other side, hemmed in by the mountains. But he couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. Not that things had felt "right" for a long time, but this was something deeper than that, something ancient and elemental, something that resonated in a place inside Dean that he didn't know existed.

Meg had taken to zapping in and out because she was bored, but she always came back with a more sour expression than before. Emma spent most of the time mumbling to herself to fill the silence, much to Dean's annoyance. Benny and Lenore were quiet, which was normal, but they were both on edge more than Dean would have liked. They never strayed far from each other, and always seemed to be watching for something to pop out from behind every tree.

Dean's normal response to this sort of tension would be to talk, to drown out the quiet with his obnoxious humor or off key renditions of classic rock songs. But every word died in his throat before he could say it.

It went on like this for a long time. There was no light or darkness to indicate the passage of time here. Only the grim twilight that surrounded them like a cloud. The only indication Dean had that they were actually moving was that it got stuffier. He seriously believed there had never been a breeze in this place throughout all of time.

Finally, there came a time when the trees opened up slightly, and there was a sound. A low rumble that they normally wouldn't have noticed except that it resounded like thunder in the silence. Dean could feel the vibrations in his feet as he walked, growing stronger with each step. He had a sinking feeling that they had found the reason no one ever came here.

The sound increased, but it did nothing to alleviate the tension, rather everyone was on high alert, ready to fight whatever monster they might find within.

The forest thinned to a massive clearing surrounded by dead or dying foliage, but no one really noticed that fact. They were all too busy staring at what was at the center of the space. The source of the rumbling noise wasn't a creature or thunder. It was an enormous, swirling portal that looked about as inviting as a black hole. It was like a giant storm cloud with all the colors of a nasty bruise. Dean thought he might have even seen lightning flash.

Worst of all—as if the thing itself weren't bad enough—there was a strong pull coming from the portal as if it wanted to swallow them up. That deep, visceral feeling Dean had been experiencing intensified. He knew he couldn't go in there, but an inexplicable urge rose up inside him all the same.

"Maybe we can go around?" Emma said in a tiny voice, nothing like her usual confident tone.

Dean didn't want to go around. He wanted to get the hell out of there. Whatever this thing was, it wasn't good.

"We should go back," Benny said, keeping his voice even, though Dean could feel the fear radiating from him.

"But what is that thing?" Meg said, sounding the least nervous of all of them. "How did it get here?"

"You wanna go in and find out?" Dean asked irritably. He still had a strong desire to jump in against the screams inside his head to get away fast.

Meg huffed. "Aren't you even a little curious."

"Perhaps we can be curious when we're a safe distance away," Lenore said. She was always the practical one. "It can't be a coincidence there's no one around."

"It's like they know not to come here," Emma said, staring into the murky depths of the enigma, as if unable to look away. "Like an instinct."

"And we're the only ones stupid enough to get close," Benny said.

"If we want to go around, we'll have to climb a bit," Lenore said, staying on the subject of getting away. "The valley is narrowest here, I think."

"What if there's nothing on the other side?" Emma asked. "Maybe this is the end, the—I don't know—border or something."

"It's got to have some purpose," Meg said thoughtfully. "The other portals have an obvious reason for existing."

"Maybe it's not a portal. There's no way to know."

"It _looks_ like a portal," Meg argued. "But I don't think we want to test it out."

"That's probably the smartest thing you've ever said," Dean said.

"I know it's difficult for Neanderthals to process sarcasm," Meg shot back.

"Forward or backward," Benny interjected with an impatient edge to his voice.

Dean put on his business voice. "If we circle around to the northwest, we should be able to get past it. It didn't seem as steep on that side."

"I think you're right," Lenore agreed. "We should go quickly."

Everyone agreed to this, and they backtracked to where the trees were thicker and less dead before changing direction toward the mountains. It seemed as if Benny still wanted to go back the way they came, but he didn't argue with Dean's decision.

As they left the site of the swirling vortex, Dean felt an uncomfortable jerking in his gut, like he wanted to go back. He tried his best to ignore it, but he was out of sorts for the rest of the day.

**~oOo~**

After the rocky foothills and dense forests came the sea. At least, it was salt water, and no one—not even Dean—could see the other side. The sound of the waves breaking on the shore was deafening after the endless silence of the woods. Dean decided to call the valley "Mirkwood" in his head. He didn't plan on going back through it ever again even as the pull of the dark portal stuck with him. It called to him in a guttural way that he didn't think he'd ever fully get over.

In comparison to Mirkwood, the coast was downright cheery. The invisible sun still gave off its colorless, cold light, and the sand was a sickly gray. But it was open. It was free. Emma decided to go for a swim. Dean actually laughed as he watched her. He didn't realize it, but back under the oppressive canopy of life-sucking trees, he didn't think he'd ever laugh again.

There was an unspoken agreement that they would rest here until the next day, and Benny and Lenore took to searching around the rocky shoreline for a good spot to make camp. Meg stood perfectly still, staring out at the water and still looking annoyed with life in general.

"Thought everyone would be happy to get out of there," Dean said as he kicked sand with the toe of his boot.

Meg didn't acknowledge him for a moment. Then she turned to face him with an expression of grim resignation. "You would think that," she said. "But you don't know what it's like to..." She looked away, and her mouth sealed in a firm line as if she was physically trying to hold the words in.

"To what?" Dean asked. He had a feeling he knew what Meg was getting at, and he didn't want to ask, but he couldn't help it.

"To _feel nothing_," Meg spat. She returned her gaze to Dean, this time looking ready to tear his head off. "I've been floating around without a body for so long... I only felt anything when I got close to that thing back there. It felt like..."

"Like you wanted to jump in," Dean said in a tone that let her know he was serious. He nodded. "I know."

Meg stared at him; her eyes softened slightly. "It has to mean something."

"Do we really want to know?"

"But how is it only the two of us felt it? We have nothing in common."

"Not nothing." Dean looked out at the ocean and watched Emma playing in the surf. He focused on that. He didn't want to think about the memories Meg was bringing back.

"What do you mean?" she asked. "I'm a demon. You're a vampire. You're far more human than I've been in hundreds of years."

"I wasn't always." Dean barely recognized the airy voice that came out of his mouth. "I thought it was over, but... Maybe Sam didn't get it all. Maybe part of me is still..."

Dean could feel the tension rolling off Meg, even though they were safely spaced two feet apart. She turned her whole body so that she was facing him head on.

"What the hell are you talking about?" She sounded... scared.

"I took the Mark of Cain," Dean said flatly. He didn't have to look at Meg to know her reaction to that. "I didn't know what it would do, but I didn't bother trying to find out. Once it happened, it was too late. I was... I was a demon."

Meg actually gasped. Dean didn't think she had it in her to be surprised by anything.

"Was?" she asked breathlessly.

"After you... died, we found out that the last trial to close the gates of Hell was curing a demon. If it was one of the trials, it had to be possible, so we dug up anything we could find. Sam almost did it too, but—anyway, it's not important. The thing is, when I was... turned, he was able to save me. Mostly."

"But if you're a demon—"

"I'm not. I was."

"But you said maybe part of you was still, I don't know, demon-ish?"

"Maybe. That's the only thing I can come up with. Which means that portal or whatever it was has something to do with Hell. Maybe that's where it leads."

"But I've been though the portal to Hell. It's nowhere near that interesting."

"What do you think it is, then?"

"Maybe... maybe demons aren't supposed to be here, like humans. Maybe it appeared because we're here."

"Then it's gonna sit there, because I ain't going in."

"I wasn't suggesting that. It gives you something to think about, though."

Dean did think about it. He couldn't stop thinking about it, and he wished he could. It didn't help that he and Meg had shared this moment or whatever it was. It only made him more sure that he had screwed himself up beyond all repair. Eventually, Meg turned to face the sea again, and they stood there in silence for a while.

Emma was standing in the water up to her thighs, looking out across the distant glassy surface. Her arms hung loosely at her sides, and her wet hair draped over her back. In the murky light, it seemed to shine ever so slightly.

"Look at her," Meg said softly. "She's so human. You think she's a monster, but she's just a girl with rotten luck."

Dean considered that. It had been a long time since he had stopped thinking of Emma as a monster. He was even beginning to think of her as his daughter sometimes. Meg had a point. Amazons were just humans with special powers. They didn't have to be evil, though most of them chose to. Maybe Emma could have been different. Maybe she was making amends now. She certainly had far less to make up for than Dean did.

The light began to fade, and there was the slightest hint of a sunset over the water as Emma came back to the beach. She looked calm and content as she waded through the surf.

"What are you looking at?" she asked.

Dean and Meg exchanged knowing looks and both shrugged. Emma shook her head and the three of them turned in the direction Benny and Lenore had gone, walking along in easy silence.

* * *

**I thought about having them meet up with Sam in this chapter, but other things kept happening, so just hold on one more week for the moment you've all been waiting for. I think you can come to expect new chapters on Friday mornings around nine AM Pacific Time because I plan on posting them before I go to work from now on.  
**


	15. Listen

**Chapter Fourteen "Listen"**

Sam still had nightmares. He would have thought that fighting for survival every day would keep his mind far too busy to be showing him the gruesome images of his past, but Sam had never exactly had it easy. He still woke in the suffocating darkness, relieved to find it was only a dream, and simultaneously disappointed to remember he was still in Purgatory. The dreams of killing Kevin and Dean came in rapid succession, along with other, stranger visions. He saw images of shadowy monsters emerging from a black hurricane that smelled of sulfur and death. These dreams weren't so much frightening as they were confusing. It had been a long time since Sam had experienced premonitions, and this didn't look like anything it could really happen. He did think it was a bit odd that his dream had _smell_.

Not getting much sleep gave Sam a lot of time to think and a lot of time to walk. There was nothing else to do as he traveled farther and farther away from the safety of the portal back to Earth. He thought about Dean of course, but that was nothing new. He thought about Cas, though he tried not to because he didn't like not knowing what was going on with the not-quite-angel. He still couldn't help imagining Cas sitting alone in the woods waiting for Sam to come back. Waiting for Dean to come back. Sam didn't understand why Cas was opposed to this mission at the beginning. He seemed so lost without Dean around, but it was as if the thought of bringing him back actually scared Cas. Sam had to wonder if it had something to do with their last encounter. Aside from the brief description of events, Cas hadn't really talked about what happened to Dean. About killing him. Sam couldn't really blame him.

The days, the fights for his life, the nightmares giving way to sleepless nights all blurred together for Sam. At the same time, he was acutely aware of everything. He felt every sore spot on his feet, every root sticking into his side when he tried to sleep. And every drop of blood he spilled on his way to Dean. It was all worth it of course, but Sam had to think that he wasn't really that much different from his brother. He also was willing to go to extreme lengths to save his only family. Perhaps he merely had fewer occasions to and failed more often.

As time dragged on, Sam began to wonder if he would spend forever here. If this was his ultimate destiny, eternally searching for his brother. Of all possible ends, it was a fitting one. Sam wasn't likely to get anything better.

His thoughts were interrupted early one morning before the light had fully come. He saw a figure moving through the trees far ahead. It didn't look like the other person were taking any pains to remain unseen. In fact, he was coming straight toward Sam.

Without thinking, Sam reached for his knife and felt the familiar grip in his hand. It had become worn and bloodstained over the months of hunting vampires and the weeks in Purgatory, but it fit him like an extension of his body.

The man approached. Another vampire—what was it with all the vampires? This one was smaller than Sam, but he looked well-built and moved expertly through the trees. His dark skin made him difficult to see in the dim light, but his eyes were bright and intelligent.

Sam balanced on the balls of his feet, ready for whatever the vampire would throw at him. But to his surprise, the man just stopped and stood there watching Sam cautiously. He stretched his hands out at his sides, a long knife held between his thumb and forefinger. As if to say he wasn't a threat but also wasn't stupid.

"I don't want to hurt you," he said softly. "I just want to know why you're here."

"None of your business," Sam replied.

The man conceded with a shrug. "Strange things have been happening. Stranger things than you."

"What do you mean?"

"Maybe you tell me your story, and I tell you mine. Fair?"

Sam considered this. The vampire wanted information, so he wouldn't try anything for the moment. And it couldn't hurt to know what had been going on in Purgatory.

"Okay," Sam said. "You first."

The man smiled. "All right, I'm feeling generous. To begin with, my name is Myron."

Sam didn't think that was important, but he replied, "I'm Sam."

Myron tucked his knife into his belt and held out his hand. "Nice to meet you, Sam."

Sam had to make a choice: trust the guy and shake his hand or lose potentially helpful information. In theory, Myron had no reason to kill him, but that hadn't stopped any of the other vampires. And if he hesitated too long, Myron would know what he was thinking. He probably already did. Sam stowed his nerves and accepted the offered hand. Myron seemed pleased.

"What do you say we find someplace a bit safer to talk?" he said.

Sam couldn't argue with that. He allowed Myron to lead the way deeper into the trees. It could be a trap, but there was no reason for that. Sam kept reminding himself that as long as he had information Myron wanted, he was safe. They walked for a solid hour before Myron stopped in a secluded area surrounded by trees and boulders.

"This is good enough," Myron said, scanning their surroundings. "Why don't you sit down? Humans get tired, right?"

"I'm fine," Sam said. It was true. He felt like he'd been running for years. By contrast, following Myron had been leisurely. "So, what's been going on around here?"

Myron appeared to be thinking for a moment before he answered. "Purgatory pretty much stays the same: trees and death, year in and year out. Lately, though... I don't know; it's as if he's turned the world upside-down."

Sam felt his heart beat faster, and he knew Myron could hear it "Who has?" he asked.

"A vampire. A thoroughly unremarkable vampire by early accounts. But he's not normal. Not..."—Myron laughed humorlessly—"... not natural."

Sam couldn't help thinking of Dean. If anyone wasn't playing by the rules, it would be Sam's brother. "Do you know his name?" Sam asked, trying vainly to keep the eagerness from his voice.

Myron frowned. "What does it matter? I only saw him once, and that was enough. I shouldn't have even been there, but I had nothing better to do. I was following this guy Gordon on the trail of somebody he had a grudge against."

"Wait." Realization dawned on Sam. "Did you say Gordon? Gordon Walker?"

"You got a thing with names. You know him?"

"Yeah, he tried to kill me a couple times."

"I take it you returned the favor."

"Kinda didn't have a choice."

"It's nothing to me. We weren't friends."

"Did you find who he was after?"

"We found someone, all right. There was a group of them. A couple of vampires and some others. I don't know what they were; it was kind of hectic. There were nearly 30 of us and four or five of them, but I'm still surprised I survived."

"So, the vampire, the one who's turning the world upside-down?"

"He was their leader. He spoke, and we listened, like some kind of god. He was in our heads. He said he would kill Gordon, but the rest of us could leave. I got the hell out of there, and never looked back."

Sam wasn't sure what to think. Maybe Dean had joined up with the group Myron ran into, but it didn't seem likely. He would have gone to look for Benny and otherwise kept to himself.

"This guy," Sam asked, "what was he like?"

"I don't know." Myron shrugged. "Tall guy, white. It doesn't matter. I've told you my story. Let's hear yours."

Sam took a deep breath. "I'm looking for my brother," he said.

"Down here?" Myron scoffed.

Sam nodded. "He got turned a while back, but there's a way out, a portal only humans can go through, but they can carry passengers.

Myron perked up at this news. "You can get a permanent resident out?"

Sam was starting to think bringing that up was a bad idea. "Only if their body hasn't been destroyed somehow."

"Oh," Myron said. "Guess you wouldn't have any reason to help me anyway."

"I might, though. I need to find my brother, and he might have been the one Gordon was after. His name is Dean."

Myron nodded. "I remember Gordon mentioning him. But why would he team up with..."

"I don't know. It's not like him."

"Unless..."

Sam didn't want to think it, but he had to ask. "Unless what?"

"What does your brother look like?"

"Uh, he's not as tall as me. Lighter hair. Really green eyes."

Myron looked mildly terrified. "Deep voice?"

"Yeah... why?"

"It was him. There was only one other man, and he didn't look anything like you."

"You think Dean looks like me?"

"It's more the way you talk than anything. Like you're country boys trying not to be."

Sam had never thought of it that way, but it was kind of true. There were bigger things to worry about, though. Dean was some kind of super vampire, and maybe that meant he really could defeat the Alpha.

"Do you know which way they went?" Sam asked.

"Seemed like they were heading south," Myron said. "I'm not exactly eager to find them again."

"You don't have to come along." Sam began walking back the way they had come before tuning around to face Myron. "Thanks for your help."

"Are you kidding?" Myron hurried to catch up. "I want to see how this ends."

Sam smiled. "Then we'd better get going."

**~oOo~**

After a few days by the ocean, the group began heading through the foothills of the western mountain range, away from Mirkwood. Every day worth of distance they put between themselves and that dismal place, the collective morale seemed to improve. It hadn't escaped Dean how much Benny especially had hated being there. It didn't seem possible, but Dean was almost sure he suspected something. Something about the portal and its connection to Dean. But there was no easy answer, so Dean banished those thoughts for the moment.

It was helpful that he had other things to think about. Since that first day on the beach, he had found himself getting along more easily with Meg and Emma. The two of them would laugh and joke and not always at his expense. It was something of a revelation that Dean didn't actually hate Meg, and even more of a shock that his feelings toward Emma were ranging into an area that he didn't quite want to think about. Meanwhile, Benny and Lenore were back to their usual selves. Strangely, life seemed good for a while. There was still a lack of any other inhabitants around the mountains, and Dean was beginning to think the dark valley might have been the only way to reach this location. They had the world to themselves.

It was a rather dull afternoon. They were all out scouting because they still had to be careful. Dean was standing at the base of a huge pine tree, keeping a lookout while Emma climbed to the top to see where they were. As she went, she periodically grumbled about how easy it was for Meg and how she got stuck doing this.

"How hard can it be to climb a tree?" Dean called up after her.

"Shut up," she replied. "I've got pine needles in my hair."

"I've got pine needles in places I don't want to talk about, so quit whining."

"Or what? You'll ground me?"

"Don't think I won't."

Emma put on a fake whiny voice. "Oh, no, my dad won't let me go... Well, anywhere."

"Hey, that's nothing compared to what my dad used to do." Dean hadn't meant to say that. It just slipped out before he could stop it.

"What did he do?"

"Nothing." Dean wished he could take that back.

There was a bit of rustling and some faint cursing and Emma dropped out of the tree, looking dirty and sticky with pitch. "Nothing new," she said. "Mountains are still where we left them, and I can't see the water anymore. What did your dad do?"

Dean had almost thought she forgot about it until that last part. "It doesn't matter. You sure there's nothing else out there."

"I'm sure. Why did you bring it up if it doesn't matter?"

"I was just talking. We should head back."

Dean turned to go in the direction of where they planned to meet the others at sunset. Emma fell in step alongside him and she had a look on her face that Dean was sure he'd seen before on someone else.

"What was your dad like?" she asked in a tone that said she wouldn't be letting this go any time soon.

Dean didn't know how he'd managed to get himself into this. He knew Emma liked to talk, but he'd never given her this much to go on before. And he really didn't want to talk about his dad. But what else could he do without treating her the way his dad had treated him?

"He was an asshole, okay?" Dean said, keeping his eyes forward and trying desperately to think of something else to talk about.

"Why?" Emma said. "What did he do to you?"

"Nothing. I mean, nothing like you're thinking. He just wasn't... much of a dad."

"Who is?" Emma shrugged. "I guess I don't have much to go on."

"Hey, you told me you didn't want—"

"I know. I'm not saying you're doing anything wrong. We're not exactly family in the usual sense. In general, you're a decent enough guy, if there is such a thing."

"That's a big 'if'."

"I suppose if we do in fact live in a relativistic universe, then it's all a matter of perspective, but I doubt that is the case. The existence of a three tiered afterlife tends to suggest there is a standard of moral absolutes."

"You lost me there."

"There's good and there's bad. I don't know what they are, but I'm pretty sure they exist."

"So you can't say whether or not I'm 'decent' because you don't know what decent is."

"That about sums it up. On that note, how do you know your dad was, as you put it, 'an asshole'?"

Dean had hoped they were off that topic, but it didn't seem like Emma was ready to let it go. "He just was," Dean said. "Not like it matters now."

"Doesn't it? I mean, you must have learned something from him, good or bad."

"Yeah, I learned that hunters shouldn't be parents because it always sucks."

Dean noticed a familiar circle of trees ahead and noticed that the light was growing more faint. Soon enough, the others would be back, and he wouldn't have to talk about this anymore. But for the moment, Emma wasn't done.

"But when I first met you, it seemed like you wanted to help me. Or did that just mean you were going so send me off someplace no one would ever find me and you'd never see me again?"

"No. I don't know. I didn't know what I was going to do. I mean, I don't think I'd have just let you tag along on all our hunts. It probably would have been better for you if you _had_ never seen me again."

"You would have protected me from what you had to live through."

"Nobody deserves that."

Emma nodded slowly and stared off through the trees at nothing in particular. "I think I'm beginning to understand the difference."

"What difference?"

"Between what is good and what is bad."

Emma still didn't look at Dean, and just then, the sounds of the others return echoed through the forest. The conversation that Dean was desperate to be out of had managed to end too soon for his liking.

**~oOo~**

Sam had been alone so long, he had forgotten what it was like to travel with someone else. Myron had lots of interesting stories to tell about growing up after the Civil War. He didn't talk much about becoming a vampire or how he died, but Sam understood that. He wouldn't want to talk about it either. Sometimes, they would fall into silence too, which was just as well. Sam still hadn't manage to wrap his head around the idea of what was going on with Dean. There wasn't much to go on. Just Myron's apprehension and what little he was willing to say about the encounter. One thing really stuck out, though. Dean was able to get into the heads of other vampires, much like the Alpha could. It must have been intentional. The Alpha wanted someone who could help him lead the others against the hunters. It made Sam believe that Dean was the one who could save them. The only one.

Myron once asked Sam what his nightmares were about. Without consciously choosing too, Sam told him. About Kevin, about being possessed, about how he had failed Dean. Myron didn't say anything. There was nothing he could say. But he didn't ask any more questions about Sam's past.

They traveled together for some time, and Sam was beginning to wonder if this was how Dean became friends with Benny. But it was different. Sam wasn't friends with Myron. The vampire was only in this out of curiosity anyway. Sam found it a little odd that Myron wanted to help in spite of his fear of Dean, but maybe being with Sam, he figured he was safe.

They ran into some resistance along the way, a few werewolves or shapeshifters here and there. The farther they went, the fewer obstacles they ran into. Myron explained that not a lot of monsters came this way.

"There's something about it," he said. "No one wants to get close."

Sam didn't notice anything odd. The forest seemed the same as it always did, except that there weren't as many monsters lurking.

"Close to what?" Sam asked.

Myron didn't answer.

Whatever it was, Sam wasn't worried. Though, maybe he should have been. If monsters were afraid of something, maybe he should be too, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He was on Dean's trail, and that was all that mattered.

It was the third straight day of quiet when everything went wrong. Myron told Sam early that morning that something was stalking them. Several somethings. At first they were too far off to tell. Sam and Myron had taken off running for a while to try to put some distance between themselves and whatever it was, but it didn't seem to help. By midday, their hunters were closer, and Myron was starting to get nervous.

"I recognize the smell," he said. "It's Leviathans."

Sam felt his stomach sink. Of all things, why did it have to be them? He hadn't seen any so far, which was surprising, but it was odd they would show up now. "How many?" he asked.

Myron frowned. "Too many. Six or seven, sounds like."

"What do they want?"

"What else? They want to kill something. Run."

Sam did a double take at Myron. "What?"

"They will catch us, but I can hold them off. If you keep going, you'll come to a place they won't go. You'll be safe. From them."

"I'm not just gonna leave you behind."

Myron looked at Sam with sad eyes. "You don't have a choice. You have to find your brother. Dying here isn't part of the plan."

"No." Sam drew his knife. "It's not."

Myron stared at him. "What are you doing?"

"You said they're gonna catch us. We'd better be ready for them." Sam turned to face the way they had come.

"They'll eat us, you know that?"

"I know."

"Why?"

"You didn't have to help me." Sam forced himself to keep his gaze straight ahead.

"You don't have to help _me_ either," Myron said softly.

"And here we are."

"You're crazy."

Sam allowed a small smile. "I've been told."

Myron reached for his own blade. He stood beside Sam, and they waited. It wasn't long. They Leviathans descended on them all at once. Sam barely had time to think of his next move before he made it. For a moment that seemed like hours, he didn't think at all. He acted instinctively, fighting back the monsters, severing their grotesque heads from their bodies, hoping they wouldn't reattach too soon.

Sam was so focused on just staying alive that he didn't notice the deep bite on his shoulder or the other injuries he had received.

He didn't see Myron go down.

It was only when he turned to face the last two Leviathans that Sam saw his companion lying on the ground, headless. He wanted to throw up and scream and kill something all at once. He settled for the last one, rushing at the Leviathans, running on adrenaline. They fought back, and Sam didn't know how they didn't kill him, how he managed to survive. By all rights, he should be dead. But as he looked around to see that he was the only one left standing, he didn't feel victorious or even relieved. He could only think of the fact that a man he barely knew just died helping him.

Was this how Dean felt? Always so responsible, so guilty? Sam didn't know how anyone could survive this feeling. He forced himself to look at Myron's body, knowing there was nothing he could do. He wasn't thinking about finding Dean, or getting home, or Cas waiting in Maine. He was thinking about the last thing Myron said:

"_You're crazy."_

He was. He always had been.

Sam turned away from the carnage and continued walking toward the unknown. His shoulder bled down his arm, but he didn't do anything to stop it. Maybe something would smell him and hunt him down. He didn't really care at the moment. He knew in a while he would care again, but that seemed so far away. Maybe he would die here. Maybe he deserved it.

He didn't feel Mirkwood. It was just another bunch of trees to him. He appreciated the silence.

**~oOo~**

Sam was dying. His blood stained the ground. Dean saw it all over his hands, tasted it on his tongue. But his throat was dry as a scream clawed it's way out.

He woke because of the smell. It was the strongest scent Dean had come across since arriving in Purgatory. He didn't think anything could smell so much. But he recognized it. And it couldn't be possible. Sam was alive on Earth. He wouldn't come here. Not when he knew Dean wasn't going back.

But he couldn't deny the smell. He had to find it.

Dean was on his feet before he knew what was happening. He walked past Benny who was on watch, not bothering to explain himself.

"Hey!" Benny said in surprise. "What are you doing?"

Dean looked back, feeling like he was still waking from a dream. "Don't you smell it?"

"Smell what?" there's nothing close to us.

"Blood." Dean realized what that meant. "Lot's of blood, Benny—it's Sam."

Benny's eyes widened, and he didn't say anything for a moment. "Sam's here?"

Dean nodded. "We have to go back."

By this time, their voices had woken the others who hurried over to see what was going on.

"Back where?" Lenore asked.

"He's there. In the dark." Dean didn't even notice how cryptically he was speaking.

But Benny got his meaning. "We can't go back there, Dean. Don't you remember ho horrible it was?"

"Sam is there!"

"Then why can't I smell him? Why only you?"

"Because I'm not like you! I'm not like any of you! I don't know what the hell I am, but I know Sam is here, and he's hurt, so I have to get to him. Now." It happened so instinctively that Dean didn't realize what he was doing, but his voice changed. It was as if it were coming out of the rocks and trees and reverberating between the five bodies in the forest.

No one said a word as Dean started off running back toward the dark woods. They followed him, though. He didn't know why they followed him, but he didn't care. All he could think about was Sam.

* * *

**I know I said Sam and Dean would meet up in this chapter, but some unexpected things happened, and the chapter was getting really long, so I decided the reunion would be made into its own full chapter. I hope it will be worth the wait. I can absolutely promise that Sam and Dean will reunite in chapter 15.  
**


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